


Altered History: Prophecies and Pompeii

by TKelParis



Series: Altered History [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awesome Donna Noble, Donna is Donna, Friendship, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2018-12-12 16:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11741154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TKelParis/pseuds/TKelParis
Summary: Sequel to "Altered History: The Runaway Bride”. The Doctor's getting the location wrong (again) lands him and Donna in Pompeii on Volcano Day. She's determined to save as many as possible, but for him the events bring back the nightmare that still haunts him. Donna is in for a lesson on the consequences of the Dark Times.





	1. Changed Circumstances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cassikat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassikat/gifts).



> If you haven't read “Altered History: The Runaway Bride”, go back and read it now. Then come back to this one. Otherwise you will be very confused.

**Title** : Altered History: Prophecies and Pompeii  
**Genre** : Doctor Who  
**Rating** : T/M (violence, whump)  
**Author** : tkel_paris  
**Summary** : Sequel to "Altered History: The Runaway Bride. The Doctor's getting the location wrong (again) lands him and Donna in Pompeii on Volcano Day. She's determined to save as many as possible, but for him the events bring back the nightmare that still haunts him. Donna is in for a lesson on the consequences of the Dark Times.  
**Disclaimer** : Not mine. I only just got into Classic Who heavily in the last three years. This idea would've been unthinkable for me back in early 2014.  
**Dedication** : My friends cassikat andhezikiah, who between them brought me to an appreciation for the Eighth Doctor. The rest was all my own doing. I also thank my beta, tardis_mole, whose impatience for this brought my muse to start writing right away. And... since I'm positive I wouldn't have had the idea without seeing him at Gallifrey One this year, the always delightful Paul McGann. Although I'm not sure I ever want him or any DW actor reading any fanfiction I write... Of course, if the next showrunner wants to bring Donna back then he or she can read them all they want for ideas. Just appreciate an acknowledgement in that case. ;)  
**Author's Note** : If you haven't read “Altered History: The Runaway Bride”, go back and read it now. Then come back to this one. Otherwise you will be very confused.

And Happy Birthday, cassikat! Sorry for no Noble Girl postings, but I hope this makes up for it. :D

 

**Altered History: Prophecies and Pompeii**

**Started March 20, 2017**  
**Story unfinished as of start of posting**

 

**Chapter One: Changed Circumstances**

_Chiswick, England  
December 26, 2006_

The Doctor stepped into the Noble home through the back door, a spring in his step. “I feel rejuvenated after a needed healing sleep and some actual sleep. Strange how light I feel now,” he muttered. “This almost seems alien to me, feeling ready to take on the universe again.”

Of course, this was only after being made to stay for Christmas Eve and Day. Donna, and later Sylvia, was adamant about that. Staying too long in one spot had nearly made him flee, and not just because of the time-line risks to staying in one place too long that wasn't Gallifrey. Or the real danger of someone with evil intent finding him and the TARDIS.

But the Nobles surprised him. It had taken him a long time to adjust to eating Earth foods, even with two exiles to motivate him. His stomach still required him to take small bites, but he could manage almost any Earth food now.

It helped that nothing he was unused to was served, but he had to admit that even his hesitant hostess, still wary of him, made him feel welcome. Never had two nights and one day on Earth been so quiet. He almost wished for something to happen when Geoffrey kept expressing gratitude for saving Donna's life.

Although that changed when Donna convinced him to tell stories about Gallifreyan traditions and the planet itself. Even Sylvia was transfixed, nearly forgetting to finish preparing the tea in the midst of a curiosity she rarely let out.

He sighed. “The restlessness is back with a renewed vigor. I'm ready to go on adventures with Donna. And she seemed eager the night before. But why did she insist on taking the one extra night?” he wondered quietly.

Then he paused. “I wonder if Donna will call me up on my habit of talking to myself.”

“Ah, Doctor, please come up front,” Geoffrey called out. “I've brought Wilfred to see you.”

Donna's granddad, then. Ill with some sort of flu and yet she would not hear of leaving without introducing him to her new friend. Although he had a feeling that there was another reason she had not vouchsafed to him. History suggested that.

The Doctor grimaced. “Let's hope this goes well,” he muttered.

Entering the front room where he had confronted Sylvia Noble, he saw Geoffrey sitting next to an older, bearded man who looked like he had been through the wringer – nose was red and he acted weighed down – and yet holding himself high.

And the man perked up on seeing the Doctor. “Is that him, eh? Oh, did I clean my hands?”

“You did. Three times,” Geoffrey said, smiling. “Doctor, my father-in-law, Wilfred Mott. Amateur astronomer and leader of the Silver Cloak, his local active elder community. Do take care to not meet Minnie the Menace without Donna around,” he added as a sudden afterthought.

“Good morning. Donna speaks very highly of you, Mr. Mott,” the Doctor greeted warmly, extending his hand and ignoring the other part of the introduction.

“Oh, call me Wilfred,” he said. “I won't get you sick, will I?”

“Takes a lot more than a simple Human flu to knock me over.”

Wilfred laughed with wide eyes as he accepted the handshake. “Alien hand.”

“Don't broadcast it, please.”

“Oh, I won't. This is too important to Donna, and I wouldn't cause harm to any friend of hers. You will take care of her, eh? 'Cause she acts like she don't need it, but she does.”

The Doctor smiled as he knelt before Wilfred, reaching into his pocket. “Given what I've seen of those around her, you've done her a world of good. And I wouldn't have expected to call her a friend after we met.”

“What's that?” Geoffrey asked as the Doctor withdrew his hand.

“My medical probe,” he said as he scanned Wilfred.

“I thought you said-”

“While it's more of a title I do know things about Human medicine and anatomy. Once spent part of two lives exiled to Earth and so I studied the medicine to fit in a bit better. Ah! Good news, Wilfred. You're already on the mend.” The Doctor returned the probe to a pocket, and quickly drew a small bottle out. “Here. Some liquid medicine. It'll boost your ability to knock out what's left, shorten your recovery and keep others well.”

“Is this like what you gave me?” Geoffrey said.

On Christmas Day the Doctor had surprised them with a present each. Checking in with an old friend from UNIT had ensured that the Nobles would receive compensation that would recover the cost of the wedding, along with a bit extra. It almost but not quite endeared him to Sylvia. For Donna, it meant she wouldn't have to seek additional work right away, although he intended to surprise her if she continued to prove herself. UNIT could always use good people. And Geoffrey received some pills to help halt the cancer he had.

“Not quite as strong, but effective. Take 10ml three times a day until you finish the bottle. Just don't let anyone know that you have that.”

“Of course,” Wilfred agreed instantly. “Where's something I can use to take the first dose?”

“I'll get a medicine cup,” Geoffrey said, getting up. “We certainly have enough of them floating around.”

“As for taking care of Donna, I suspect she'll not like that much,” the Doctor continued, sitting down near them. “She speaks like I'm the one needing care.”

“Well, she's always done things her way,” Wilfred said, laughing. “The little general, we always called her. Or Trouble, depending on what she'd done. Did they tell you what she did when she was six?”

“No, but I suspect I'll be fascinated,” the Doctor said, smiling. “What did she do?”

Geoffrey chuckled as he returned, having overheard the whole exchange. “Money was extremely tight for a while, and Sylvia told her, 'No holiday this year'. Well, that didn't sit well with her. She'd had a bad final few weeks at school, getting bullied and not being believed,” he explained, helping measure the dose for Wilfred.

“She endured that all throughout her schooling years?!”

“Oh, she learned to challenge them enough to mostly leave her be as she got older,” Geoffrey explained while Wilfred took the dose. “And when she started maturing some of the boys started paying attention to her. Not that any of them were worth her time. She saw through them better than her mother thought she did, but not without a few mistakes. Donna's words, not mine.”

The Doctor rubbed his forehead. “No wonder she felt so desperate to get Lance to marry her. So, what did she do?”

The memory made Geoffrey smile and Wilfred chuckle. “She packed one of her bags and got on a bus by herself,” Geoffrey said. “Made it all the way to Strathclyde.” He shook his head. “My colleagues in the police force had to hold me down while they all went off to search for her, from one end of the country to the other. They didn't have CCTV and radios on buses like they do today, or they would have found her straight away, but back then it took an agonising two days.”

The Doctor laughed with them. “A bit of a free spirit? Well, she'll do just fine in the TARDIS. I've done my share of running away from situations I hated.”

“Your ship?” Wilfred enthused. “May I get a little see? I always dreamed about the stars, going out there. But I'm an old man now. Biggest adventure I had was going out with the Paras, being in Palestine at the end of the Mandate. I lied about my age so I could help on the home-front with the volunteer fire brigade when the war hit Britain. Just getting to see how Donna might touch the stars, that'll be enough for me now.”

“As soon as she's ready. Speaking of Donna, where is she? I thought she'd be downstairs by now.”

Her relatives laughed out loud.

“What?”

“Oh, Doctor. You have so much to learn about Donna,” Wilfred chuckled. “And possibly Human women in general.”

“What's that about learning about me, Granddad?”

The sound of Donna's voice drew the Doctor into the hall. He looked at the landing, which he had ignored earlier and stopped still, eyes going huge. “What-what-what is all _this_?!”

A pile of luggage, of varying shapes and sizes, sat in the hall in a very organized way, each fitting tightly together. Like a Tetris puzzle, filled completely in. He could swear it wasn't there when he entered the room.

“I did ask her what she needed it all for,” Sylvia said as she followed Donna downstairs.

Donna placed two more bags down as she responded to her mother, smug over managing to get one over her new friend. “Well, he said he can go anywhere. So, I have to be prepared. Hot weather, cold weather, no weather.”

“Wait, wait, wait... there's a wardrobe in the TARDIS,” the Doctor protested.

“And how many of your friends had figures like mine? I question that. Besides, I like having my own things.”

“Is that a hatbox?! What is it doing here?”

Donna grinned. “Planet of the Hats? I'm ready!”

The Doctor vaguely heard Geoffrey and Wilfred chuckling, but his attention was more on the baffling sight before him. “Why does anyone need so many clothes?”

“Well. That'll earn you a slap if you're not careful, Doctor. Don't know a lot about Human females, do you? Well, we are all different, but I don't believe in wearing the same thing over and over again like you do. So... are you going to help or do I have to prove how much I can carry in one go?”

He sighed. “All right, all right, all right. No need to make a lady do everything.” He began picking up many of the bags, first making sure he had the TARDIS key ready. Although he avoided the hatbox. He had heard weird stories about what Humans kept in them, and hoped that friends like Bernice had been merely trying to pull one over him.

She had certainly tried to pull a few things over him. Mostly failing, but not often enough for his comfort.

“Will it all fit inside your ship?” Wilfred asked as the Doctor led the way – quickly because he was feeling a little cooped up and wanted to get a move on starting the adventures. Everyone was carrying something, even Wilfred. Although Donna wouldn't let him carry more than two small bags.

“Oh, Granddad, you are in for a surprise,” Donna said, grinning at him. “The TARDIS isn't like anything you imagined. Don't let the appearance fool you.”

“She's the finest ship to ever sail the Vortex,” the Doctor called out from ahead of them, already outside.

“Doesn't look anything like a spaceship,” Sylvia muttered. “And how can he hear us?”

“Apparently that's something Martian he can do,” Donna answered quietly, smirking as no reply came from the Doctor. “And it seems that boasting is common to his kind.”

The Doctor had landed the TARDIS at an angle to the back door, which meant that none of them could see the doors as they exited. He had already brought her cases inside and was stepping back out. “Here she is.”

Wilfred stopped and stared. “A bit small for the pair of you, isn't she?”

“Go closer, Granddad.”

As Wilfred did, Geoffrey leaned in toward Sylvia. “Who is he going to react more like? You or me?”

She shrugged, ever so slightly. “Probably you. Or Donna. Would be like him to inspect the outside.”

Wilfred stepped up next to the Doctor. “How can this work?”

“Time Lord science. We can make things bigger on the inside,” the Doctor said as he smiled and opened the doors. He also quickly took the bags off Wilfred, just in case.

The old man's shock was comical. His eyes were wider than the roundels. He leaned in, looking at the interior. Then he drew back to check that the outside was the same size as before. He gaped at the Doctor.

The Doctor, once he had got used to the idea of people traveling with him, always enjoyed the reactions to the TARDIS. In retrospect, he was able to find humor in how Barbara and Ian handled seeing the TARDIS and realizing that there was far more to the blue box than they had assumed. At the time, he had just been furious that his and Susan's privacy had been invaded.

“Well, at least you didn't wander about the outside, touching as you went,” Donna said, smiling a little. “That's what I did when I realised what I'd stepped out of.”

“It's barmey!” Wilfred whispered in shock. “And amazing! May I look a little inside?”

The Doctor sighed, feigning being put upon but really loving every second. “Okay, okay, okay. I doubt Donna would forgive me if I tried to stop you. Just not for long.”

/=/=/=/=/=/

It had taken longer than he was comfortable with, but they finally finished the little tour.

Donna waved to her family as she stood in the half-open doorway. “I'll call regularly!”

“You'd better, Lady,” Sylvia said, her smile belying the tension in her words.

“Bye, Love!” Wilfred said. “Go on, you reach for those stars!”

“Take care, Donna,” Geoffrey said, simply but firmly.

She waved one more time and then closed the doors. She took a deep breath. “Oh my god, I didn't think I'd be this nervous,” she said quietly.

The Doctor promptly began adjusting the Controls. “Okay, I told them how far to step back. We're ready! A little whirl in the Vortex while we get your things situated, and then on to our first adventure!”

“Are you sure that we had to keep it to the Control Room?” she asked, stepping up to the Controls. “Or were you merely getting impatient?”

“I don't know if the Old Girl has finished your room yet. It wouldn't do to make them think you had to sleep in here. I can only imagine what your mother would say.”

“This from the alien who had no trouble reducing her to tears when she tried to rip into me?”

“I suppose you could say we reached an understanding, but we're not friends. Ready?”

She grabbed a part of the Controls that looked safe. “Ready as I'll ever be,” she breathed.

He worked the Controls and drew down the lever. The dematerialization sounds rang around them, and they left Chiswick for the universe. For a take-off, it was rather calm.

The Doctor was pleased that it stayed that way. “There! We'll spend a little time in a quiet part of the Vortex. I'll check her systems and you can get ready for your first proper adventure. And after your comments about what kind of weather you like I've thought of the perfect first stop.”

“Ooh! Where and when is it?”

“That would be telling,” he teased.

“Oh, how will I know what to wear?” she griped.

He glanced at the coat and sweater she wore over her jeans. “Well, you won't need the coat, and I think that top will be a bit warm where we're going.”

“So, short sleeves will do?” At his nod, she squealed. “Will there be real sunshine as well?”

“Very likely. There, that should do for now. Shall we see what the Old Girl has drummed up for you?”

“Yes, please!”

“Why do I have the feeling that's going to be the most-polite you'll be towards me all day?”

“Oi!”

But there was no venom in it. Not when he was flashing a teasing grin at her. She aimed a swipe at his arm, but he was very able to dodge it.

She scoffed. “Prawn.”

He lost his smile as a thought hit him. “Why are you calling me a crustacean? My species doesn't have a near common ancestor with them.”

Donna laughed. “It's a nickname. Slim, quick, and hard to find. Get used to being the recipient of one after the other. I give nicknames to those I like.”

“You must like me rather well because you have already given me several: Martian Boy, Spaceman, Prawn, Sunshine, dumbo. And I hate that last one, by the way.”

“I was angry and scared. What did you expect? At least I didn't call you weird.”

“No, you called my ship weird.”

“Again, angry and scared.”

His smile returned. “Forgiven. Or I will as soon as I have my space in the Control Room back.”

“Help me with my bags and cases, and it'll happen sooner.”

“Deal.”

/=/=/=/=/=/

“So, where are we?” asked Donna as the Doctor opened the TARDIS doors. “Where's my first proper adventure located? And when?!”

He led her to a roughly hewn curtain and pushed it aside, grinning. “Welcome to Ancient Rome, Donna.”

Her eyes opened wide as she looked upon the people wearing items she only ever saw in museums or at costume parties. And the smells were nothing like the modern era. She could smell the evidence of animals living in the area, of foods for sale, and the faint hint of the sea.

“Well, not to them, obviously,” the Doctor continued as they walked along. “Right now... this is brand new Rome.”

Donna squawked wordlessly. “Oh my God, it's... it's so Roman. This is fantastic!” She threw herself into hugging him.

He laughed as he returned it. “Careful, Donna. You might give someone the wrong idea.”

She swatted his arm, but continued with her marveling as they walked along the street. “I'm here... in Rome. Donna Noble in Rome.” She paused a few seconds, looking around. “This is just weird. I mean, everyone here is dead.”

“Well, I wouldn't tell them that. Bad things tend to happen.”

She stopped him as something caught her eye. “Hold on a minute. That sign over there is in English. Are you having me on? Are we in Epcot with the Welsh and Continental designs in the 'English Pavillion'?!”

“No, no, no. Is that what they're teaching in America? No wonder things seem a mess over there,” he muttered as an aside before returning to business. “That's the TARDIS translation circuits, making it look like English. It does the same for speech. To anyone listening, you're speaking Latin right now.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“I just said 'seriously' in Latin.”

“Well, you don't hear it as Latin. Only someone from this era, someone who's never heard English would hear it as Latin. Which they wouldn't have; not even Old English was around then. At least six other languages were.”

She laughed, eyes twinkling skeptically. “What if I said something in actual Latin? Like 'veni, vidi, vici'? My dad said that when he came back from football. If I said 'veni, vidi, vici' to that lot, what would it sound like?”

He paused. “I'm not sure. No one's ever asked. You have to think of difficult questions, don't you?”

“I'm gonna try it,” Donna said, before walking up to a stallholder.

The Doctor's eyes widened. “You're brave,” he muttered under his breath.

The Stallholder smiled genially. “Hello, sweetheart. What can I get for you, my love?”

“Veni, vidi, vici.”

“Hunh? Sorry? Me no speak Celtic. No can do, missy.”

“Yeah,” Donna said, reflectively. She promptly walked back to the Doctor. “What does he mean 'Celtic'?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps Welsh. To his ears you sound Welsh,” he said as he led her along the streets.

“Won't our clothes look a bit odd?” she asked after a few minutes.

“No. In ancient Rome, anything goes. Think of it as like Soho... but bigger.”

“Oh 'eck. Not necessarily a good thought. You've been here before then?”

“Oh, ages ago. Before you ask, that fire had nothing to do with me.” He paused, thinking a moment. “Well, at least not _this_ me, but I didn't get the chance to look around properly.” He frowned. “The Coliseum... Pantheon... Circus Maximus... You'd expect them to be looming by now. Where is everything?” he asked rhetorically as he stopped to look around. “Let's try this way.”

They finally came to a wider street. Donna looked around. “I'm not an expert, but there are Seven Hills of Rome, aren't there? How come they only got one?”

The Doctor looked where she was. One mountain loomed in the distance. He frowned. But before he could speak the ground shook.

“Here we go again,” one vendor said as he fought to save his stall and merchandise. So, did all of the others nearby.

Donna's eyes went huge. “Wait a minute! One mountain... with smoke... which makes this-”

“Pompeii,” he finished for her. “We're in Pompeii... and it's Volcano Day!”


	2. Chapter Two: The Ghosts of the Past

**Chapter Two: The Ghosts in the Past**

_Pompeii, Italy  
August 23, 79AD_

The Doctor grabbed Donna's hand and they ran through the streets, neither wanting to stay to see the events. They soon arrived back at their starting point. But when he threw back the curtain the TARDIS wasn't there.

“You're kidding,” Donna groaned. “Don't tell me the TARDIS is gone.”

He stilled and looked at her incredulously. “Are you serious? What am I supposed to tell you then? If I lie, you might slap me.”

She glared at him. “Don't get clever in Latin.”

The Doctor's look turned sour. “There's no winning with you. Now I know how Lucie felt. Excuse me!” he interrupted himself to speak with the stallholder. “There was a box – a big, blue wooden box just over here. Where's it gone?”

The Stallholder smirked widely. “Sold it, didn't I?”

The Doctor spluttered, “But-but-but it wasn't yours to sell!”

“It was on my patch, wasn't it?” the man insisted. “I got 15 sesterces for it. Lovely jubbly,” he added, rubbing his hands together.

“Who did you sell it to?” the Doctor demanded, cold and harsh. “I have no time to deal with idiots who sell things that aren't theirs to sell.”

The Stallholder nearly stumbled in the face of the anger he had no frame of reference for. “Old Caecilius. Look... if you want to argue, why don't you take it up with him? He's on Foss Street. Big villa – can't miss it.”

“And what did he want with a big, blue wooden box?”

“He considered it modern art.”

Donna frowned. “Odd choice.”

“Thanks,” the Doctor said, chivying Donna along. He kept hold of her hand as he got his bearings. “There! Foss Street, this way!”

Donna halted, forcing him to stop as she laid eyes on the large structure nearby. “No, there's this big sort of amphitheatre I think... We can start there. We can get everyone together. Then maybe they've got a great, big bell or something we could ring. Have they invented bells yet?”

“Wait, wait wait! What do you want a bell for?!”

She gave him a hard look. “To warn everyone! To start the evacuation! What time does Vesuvius erupt? When's it due?”

He could tell that her stubborn streak was rearing its head, and he lowered his voice, becoming very serious. “It's 79AD, 23 of August. Which makes Volcano Day tomorrow.”

“Plenty of time. We can get everyone out easy.”

He took her hand, firmly. “Except we're not going to.”

She refused to budge. “But that's what you do. You're the Doctor. You save people.”

“Every time I can, yes. But not this time,” he stressed, looking her right in the eye. “Pompeii is a fixed point in history. What happens happens. There is no stopping it.”

“Says who?” she demanded when he started to move again.

“Me.”

“What, and you're in charge?”

“I'm the highest authority present who knows about Time. So, if you want, yes, I'm in charge.”

“I don't need your permission, Sunshine. I'll tell them myself.”

He took a firm grip on both of her hands, making sure her eyes were fixed on his as he kept her from moving away. “Donna, if you stand in the marketplace and announce the end of the world, they'll assume you're an oracle who's gone mad and they'll go after you. I've seen it time and time again. You're not one of the young assistants I've travelled with, but bad things tend to happen when my companions run away. Now, come on. We are locating the TARDIS, and then we are getting out of here.”

This time he tugged hard enough to force her to follow.

“Well, I just might have something to say about that, Spaceman!” she snapped as her feet kept her following him.

“I'm sure you will!”

He thought about calling her Human Type-1, but he was not interested in another slap. Even if the description was true. It might mean he would develop a habit of holding her slapping hand.

/=/=/=/=/

“Positions!”

They heard a male voice cry out as they reached their destination. The Doctor made his way in through the shaking ground and saw several people holding items in place. But one bust had no one guarding it. The obvious man of the house rushed toward it, but the Doctor beat him to it, catching it before it could hit the ground.

“There you go,” he declared as he put it back in place. “No reason for an emperor's bust to break today.” Nor was it a place to reveal anything else about his past. He could only imagine what Donna would make of his knowing Augustus, or of his days as a Vestal Virgin. Of course it was a past life.

“Thank you, kind sir,” the man, presumably Caecilius, said. “I'm afraid business is closed for the day. I'm expecting a visitor.”

“Oh, I'd normally be sorry for interrupting, but I have important business with you,” the Doctor insisted as he shook the man's hand. “It won't take long.”

“Who are you?”

He hesitated for a second while a cover story came to him. “I'm Doctor Medici.”

“You what?” Donna exclaimed as she walked up next to the Doctor. “Aren't you just a bit early for them?”

The Doctor looked po-faced at her. “What's a couple of hundred years between friends?”

She huffed. “So you're willing to stomp around as if you own the place, but not to help out in times of need. Now he waxes political.”

“Political?!” he spat, eyes flashing.

“It's what you're acting like, Sunshine. And I'm Donna,” she added, addressing the Roman watching.

Caecilius looked back and forth between them. “Mr and Mrs Doctor Medici?”

The Doctor's and Donna's eyes widened in surprise. “No, no, no, we're not married,” he said.

Donna shook her head. “Not together,” she insisted at the same time.

“Oh, then brother and sister?” Caecilius said, the idea clearly just hitting him. “Yes, of course. You look very much alike.”

The time travelers looked at each other in shock. “Really?” they said as one.

Caecilius sighed, a little bemused by their reaction. “I'm sorry, but I'm not open for trade.”

“And that trade would be?” asked the Doctor.

“Marble. Lucius Caecilius,” he formally introduced himself with a proud smile. “Mining, polishing and design thereof. If you want marble, I'm your man.”

“That's good,” the Doctor said, grinning at the opening to draw out the psychic paper. “That's very good, because I'm the marble inspector.”

The ginger haired woman, wearing the finest female garments Donna had ever seen, paled. “By the gods of commerce, an inspection.” She seized a cup from the young man nearby. “I'm sorry, sir. I do apologize for my son,” she added, pouring the wine into the pool.

“Oi!” the young man protested.

“This is my good wife, Metella,” Caecilius said, eyes as wide as his wife's. “I-- I must confess, we're not prepared for a--”

“Oh, there's nothing to worry about,” the Doctor said. “I'm sure you've got nothing to hide. However, that object rather looks like wood to me,” he added, pointing to the TARDIS. “And I believe that the man you bought it from had no right to sell it to you,” he added as he led Donna towards it.

“I told you to get rid of it!” Metella hissed at her husband.

“I only bought it today,” he protested.

“Ah, well,” the Doctor shrugged. “Caveat emptor.”

“Oh, you're Celtic,” Caecilius groaned. “That's lovely.”

“I'm sure it's fine but I must take it off your hands for a proper inspection,” the Doctor interrupted.

Donna saw her chance. “Although, while we're here, wouldn't you recommend a holiday, Doctor?”

He stilled and looked at her with a warning. “I don't know what you mean, Donna.”

She was unphased and pressed on with her case. “Oh, this lovely family, mother and father and son... Don't you think they should get out of town?”

“Why should we do that?” asked Caecilius.

“Donna, no,” the Doctor whispered.

She ignored him. “Well, the volcano for starters.”

“What?”

Donna blinked at Caecilius' question. “Volcano.”

“What-ano?”

“That great big volcano right on your doorstep-”

The Doctor grabbed Donna's arm, trying to look natural. “Oh, Donna, we haven't even greeted the household gods yet. We are bad guests if we do not,” he insisted as he walked her with hands on her shoulders towards the shrine in the room. “They don't know what it is,” he whispered as he got her to kneel with him. “Vesuvius is just a mountain to them. The top hasn't blown off yet.” He sprinkled the frieze with water, as the Romans would. “The Romans haven't even got a word for volcano. Not until tomorrow.”

“Oh great. They can learn a new word... when they die.”

He winced in the face of her sarcasm. “Donna, that's enough.”

“Listen, I don't know what sort of kids you've been flyin' around with in outer space, but you're not telling me to shut up. That boy... how old is he, sixteen? And tomorrow he burns to death.”

“And that's my fault?” he squeaked, stunned by how fierce Donna's determination was.

“Right now, yes!”

One of the servants entered the room, trying to not seem urgent but doing a poor job. “Announcing Lucius Petrus Dextrus, Chief Augur of the city government.”

The older man who strode in, standing tall and confident, made an imposing figure, the Doctor noted as he brought Donna away from the shrine. Both were curious to see this person.

“Lucius, my pleasure as always,” said Caecilius.

“Quintus, stand up,” Metella snapped.

Quintus stood with a long-suffering sigh, plainly suffering from a hangover.

“A rare and great honour, sir, for you to come to my house,” Caecilius said, holding out his hand.

Lucius ignored it. “The birds are flying north... and the wind is in the west.”

Caecilius furrowed his brows. “Right. Absolutely. That's good, is it?”

“Only the grain of wheat knows where it will grow.”

“There now, Metella, have you ever heard such wisdom?” Caecilius asked, to conceal his confusion.

Donna frowned at the Doctor, who looked bemused.

“Never,” Metella agreed. “It's an honour.”

“Pardon me, sir, I have guests,” Caecilius said, gesturing to them. “This is the Doctor, and Donna.”

The time travelers both waved, although the Doctor's was more restrained. Donna was merely cautious.

Lucius looked at them like he had little time for this. “A name is but a cloud upon a summer wind.”

“But the wind is felt most keenly in the dark,” rejoined the Doctor.

Donna blinked. What code was this, she wondered.

“Ah!” Lucius exclaimed, eyes lightening in intrigue. “What is the dark other than an omen of the sun?”

The Doctor tilted his head. “I concede that every sun must set...”

“Ha!” Lucius said, triumphant.

“...and yet the son of the father must also rise,” the Doctor finished with a smile, gesturing to Quintus.

The vote of confidence surprised the boy's family, and the boy as well. Donna had to smile at the consternation on the visitor's face.

“Damn. Very clever, sir,” Lucius conceded. “Evidently a man of learning.”

“Oh indeed, but don't mind me. I have no intention of disturbing the status quo.”

“He's Celtic,” Caecilius explained to Lucius on a whisper.

“Especially since we'll be off in a minute,” the Doctor added, taking Donna's hand and heading for the TARDIS.

Donna tried to dig her feet in. “I'm not going,” she whispered.

“It's ready, sir,” Caecilius continued, aloud this time as he moved to a covered object.

“We have to,” the Doctor insisted.

“Well, I'm not.”

“The moment of revelation,” Caecilius proclaimed as he unveiled a square piece of marble. “And here it is...”

The Doctor, face pinched over his companion's stubbornness, looked back over his shoulder for a quick glance. The design on the marble made him stop.

Donna stumbled into him. “What?!” she hissed. But the growing shock on his face told her something was very wrong. And if he was alarmed then she knew she had to worry about something other than saving people from Vesuvius.

“Exactly as you specified. It pleases you, sir?” Caecilius asked.

Curious, Donna looked back. And did not believe her eyes.

Lucius' reaction was restrained, but his eyes betrayed his feelings just a bit. “As the rain pleases the soil.”

The Doctor rejoined them, with Donna trailing behind. “Oh, now that's... unusual. Who designed that?”

“My lord Lucius was very specific,” Caecilius explained.

“Where did you get the pattern?” the Doctor asked Lucius.

“On the rain and mist and wind.”

“Well, that looks like a circuit,” Donna remarked.

“Made of stone,” the Doctor agreed.

“Do you mean you just dreamt that up?” Donna asked Lucius, disbelieving.

“That is my job... as City Augur.”

“What's that then, like the mayor?” Donna whispered to the Doctor.

The Doctor was grateful that she had enough thought to whisper. It saved him from having to make a weird excuse for her that might get him slapped. “This is an age of superstition... of official superstition. The augur is paid by the city to tell the future. 'The wind will blow from the west.' That's the equivalent of your 9:00 news.”

A young woman joined them. She looked utterly pale and drawn, and was barely able to stand. Her eyes fixed on the Doctor and Donna. “They're laughing at us. Those two, they use words like tricksters. They're mocking us.”

The phrasing made the Doctor still. Although he tried to conceal it from the audience. “No, no, no. I meant no offence. Although I wonder at your word choice.”

Metella flushed slightly. “I'm sorry. My daughter's been consuming the vapours,” she explained as she walked to her daughter's side.

“By the gods, Mother!” Quintus burst into the conversation, suddenly alert. “What have you been doing to her?”

“Not now, Quintus,” his father warned.

“But she's sick. Just look at her!”

Lucius' expression soured. “I gather I have a rival in this household. Another with the gift.”

“Oh, she's been promised to the Sybiline Sisterhood,” Metella bragged. “They say she has remarkable visions.”

“The prophecies of women are limited and dull,” Lucius countered in contempt. “Only the men folk have the capacity for true perception.”

“I'll tell you where the wind's blowing right now, mate,” Donna growled, offended.

The ground suddenly shook.

Lucius was unaffected. “The mountain god marks your words. I'd be careful if I were you.”

“And I would be careful offending her,” the Doctor said, touching Donna's arm in calming support. “I can tell you that the gods of Truth and Justice protected her from death and still look on her with favour. Not to mention her other protector, the one with the Blue Box: the God of Retribution.”

The Augur stilled like a statue, eyes challenging the roundels for size.

Any other time Donna would have challenged the Doctor's speaking of himself as a god, but she held her tongue. Lucius' evident fear of whatever he had heard reassured her.

The Doctor was satisfied that this Roman had heard enough whispered stories over the years to treat that as a proper warning. “Consuming the vapours, you say?” he added, turning his back on Lucius to declare he considered the subject done.

“They give me strength,” Evelina said.

“It doesn't look like it to me.”

Evelina looked him right in the eye. “Is that your opinion... as a doctor?”

“Oh, you overheard me introduce myself?”

“No. Doctor. That's your name.”

Now she had his attention. “How did you know that?”

She ignored him, attention turning onto Donna. “And you, you call yourself noble.”

“Now then Evelina, don't be rude,” Metella cided.

The Doctor again placed a hand on Donna's arm, this time to still her questions. “No, no, no. Let her speak.”

Evelina was prompt in doing so. “You both come from so far away.”

“A female soothsayer in inclined to invent all sorts of vagaries.”

The Doctor scoffed quietly. “Oh, not this time, Lucius. It appeared that you've been out-soothsaid.”

Lucius narrowed his eyes. “Is that so... man from Gallifrey?”

“What did you say?” the Doctor blurted, the shock stifling his stutter completely.

“Strangest of images,” the Augur muttered. “Your home was destined to be lost in fire until you acted, was it not?”

“Doctor, what are they doing?” Donna asked, touching his arm to steady him.

“And you, daughter of... London.”

She started. “How does he know that?” she breathed.

“This is the gift of Pompeii,” Lucius declared. “Every single oracle tells the truth.”

“But that's impossible,” she insisted on a whisper. “The name 'London' didn't appear for centuries after this!”

Lucius' eyes suddenly widened, as if whatever he saw frightened him. “Doctor, _she_ is returning.”

The Doctor paled.

“Who is? Who's 'she'?” Donna demanded.

“And you, Daughter of London... she wishes you to have something on your back.”

The Doctor then grabbed Donna's arm, swallowing and unable to speak.

That he was silent made Donna's eyes widen in alarm. “What's that mean?”

“Even the word "Doctor" is false,” Evelina said, looking at the Doctor. “Your real name is hidden. It burns in the stars of the Cascade of Medusa herself. You are a lord, sir. A lord... of time...” she whispered as she fainted.

“Evelina!” Metella cried.

The Doctor snapped out of his trance and met Metella in rushing to Evelina's prone body. He needed the distraction.

Not that the Augur was interested in him at that point. He soon took the marble and left. Caecilius clearly wished to remain with his daughter, but had to see Lucius out.

The servants rushed to help Metella bring Evelina to her room. Quintus, left to his own devices, left to locate more wine.

“Donna, go to her. Find out what's happening to her.”

“Doctor, why did his words frighten you?”

He swallowed, looking pale and drawn. “Find out more about Evelina's condition for me. Then I might be able to speak of it.”

/=/=/=/=/

Donna found Evelina on her bed, still unconscious. Metella, tending to her, looked up upon hearing the approaching footsteps. She had made sure that Caecilius had come and gone, aware that it might not be good form for her to be there.

“She didn't mean to be rude. She's ever such a good girl. But when the gods speak through her...” she trailed off, as if uncertain what to say as she unwrapped the cloth covering Evelina's arm.

“What's wrong with her arm?” Donna asked.

“An irritation of the skin,” Metella explained. “She never complains, bless her. We bathe it in olive oil every night.”

“What is it?” Donna asked as she walked closer. When she saw the arm, she sucked in a breath.

Metella's eyes looked at her visitor's. “Evelina said you'd come from far away. Please, have you ever seen anything like it?”

Donna shook her head as she ran her fingers along the arm. “It's stone.” After a few seconds, she took a breath. “I have to speak with the Doctor.”

/=/=/=/=/=/

She found him sitting on one of the things that passed for couches. His eyes were staring at the wall in front of him, but looking like they were seeing something far away. The Doctor looked less like an alien and more like a frightened, shell-shocked war survivor she had heard tiny hints about over the years. She knelt beside him, slowly moving into his line of sight. “Her whole arm is turning to stone,” she whispered.

The Doctor took a deep breath. “The soothsayers of Pompeii can see the future, but they can't see tomorrow,” he mused. “Why?”

“So, we are staying?”

“Yes. Because we have a mystery to solve.”

“Doctor?”

“Hmm?”

“You were going to tell me why you reacted so strongly to Lucius' words.”

He was silent for several seconds before sighing and pushing himself more upright, facing her. “It's a reminder of what nearly became the Last Great Time War, Donna. What nearly took my planet and everyone left of my people.”

“Who is the 'she' he meant?”

He swallowed. “To explain that, I have to go back to the beginning of the end. To when I learned that I had to act to save the universe from a force that wanted to turn Gallifrey into a nightmare. But I had to be convinced to do it.”

“Why?”

“Because I was already in a very dark state. Angry at the universe, worried about the conflict I could see coming, and afraid that I would go too far or forced to fight. I feared what I might become.”


	3. Chapter Three: Prophecy of Doom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted in honor of bas_math_girl's birthday. Life's been hectic, although I'm working on getting stuff done.

_Karn, in the Kasterborus System  
Date up for debate, in Human terms – but somewhere around 1100AD by Earth reckoning_

The TARDIS landed in the quiet, open plain. A few small dwellings dotted the landscape, almost blending into the scenery. The inhabitants had made a concerted effort to blend in. Or perhaps, more accurately, to hide. Some of the dwellings resembled piles of tumbled rocks, others like the burrows of animals, and others were disguised as part of the canopy of trees that dotted the landscape. It depended what material was to hand in that specific locality. Not that they were spread out all that much. Several were clustered together to form a knot of what appeared to be ant hills. But the point to the dwellings was that they were hiding, and difficult to see unless the eye discerned a movement. But even then, you could be mistaken for thinking there were only six such dwellings, when the true number was closer to six hundred. Or just one.

And the inhabitants of the motley collection had more than just scavengers and carnivores to worry about. They avoided the guards sent to keep them on this world that was not theirs by birth. A world they were forced upon. Guards they had to be careful to avoid angering lest they receive brutal punishment. Their tracks were well-worn from centuries of use. Few dared come close from either side.

There were others, travellers, that sought to lure them out. For sport or simply to kill. There had been rumors, nothing more, but then dead bodies didn’t tell you much. Even here, away from where they had once called home, the monsters would come. The monsters with their torture and their lies; their cruelty and their jealousy. It was all the same in the end.

Their abilities had been banned, as if they could help having them. You could ban weapons. Just remove them from the population. But how did you ban an ability? The Time Lords had many ways to accomplish such a thing. Each one bloodier and more painful than the last.

One such dwelling, though, was not as disguised as the others. In fact, it wasn’t disguised at all. It was built like a cairn, half buried, half visible, like a large spot, a boil of stone shards and blocks, all fitted together like a tightly packed 3D jigsaw. And its entrance was a door, double but low in height, simple wood but clearly visible by its painted design. A slap in the face to any passing Time Lord. It spoke of defiance. Here I am, come and get me. Many had tried. All had failed.

All despite those Guards. They had created careful ways of letting the Guards take the brunt of those travellers' aims. Although sometimes the Guards preferred to stop those visitors because they were interfering with their own sport of scaring the inhabitants witless.

And beside it stood an even more conspicuous object. A brightly painted box. Blue in the landscape of greens, browns and slate grey.

The doors slowly opened, and the Doctor stepped out cautiously. He straightened his frock coat with one hand. His eyes scanned for people and other things.

His other hand was holding an object of infinitesimal worth. It looked innocuous enough, a stout stick, but made of an artificial substance. It was a cylinder, as thick as the Doctor’s arm, cream at both ends and dull bluish grey in the middle. It pulsed every now and then, turning the cream to a faint green. And when it did he would shush it, as if it was a crying babe. And in some ways, that was exactly what it was. It was a long way from home. Lost and in grave danger. Hunted, and defenseless. He could feel an energy within, and his instincts suspected that it would be dangerous in the wrong hands.

Dangerous because it could only call to him and accept his reassurances if he had a personal tie to it. He strongly suspected what it had to be, something missing from his House for centuries. But given the suddenness of finding it and the tensions back home, it was not safe to return it. Hence coming to a place he wished to never return to.

Soon he could see members of the Sisterhood of Karn exiting their dwellings and heading towards him. Not that he could see the dwellings, but he knew that was deliberate. And they, in turn, were not dressed to hide, retaining the blood-red robes of their Order, which stood out like branchless trees on the hillside. Most alarmingly, he had not told them he was coming, nor had he told them who he was or why he was here. He was certain he could recognize a few. Once they were closer he grimaced as his suspicions were confirmed. Orthena and Haspira, the two he dealt with when he and Lucie were kidnapped by them. The two who had been ready to kill them in a misguided attempt to stop the reviving of Morbius.

But they had someone else at their head. A woman whose face held the vague familiarity when it became clear. A hint that he had seen her face in the Untempered Schism. Hespira might have been in charge when he was last here, but the woman at their head was the true power behind Karn. Ohila.

It was she who had called them together to meet him as he arrived. Her mental powers scared the Doctor, as much as they comforted him. In many ways, her telepathy meant he had little left to explain. In others, he had far more. But more than that, a bond that he had worked so hard to hide from the universe risked being exposed here. A forbidden bond. It not only risked his life, but risked their exposure to those who hunted them as much as those who hunted what he carried.

His only comfort was that Ohila had no reason to reveal it. Indeed, she benefited from keeping mum.

The Doctor ignored the majority of the women who converged on him, like a pack of lions approaching from all directions, and focused his attention on the one who was familiar. Ohila seemed to have avoided the touch of time. And for that he was glad.

When she stopped walking, so did he, and so did they, though he was less than comfortable standing in the circle of silent women. There seemed to be an ominous tinge to the air. Although he trusted Ohila with his life, her people were a different matter. And to that; he and she were not on friendly terms.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“No greeting?” he wondered easily. “Besides, you already know why I am here,” he added.

He lifted his arm straight out in front of him and showed her the item he carried. The women in the circle thought and acted as one, tensing ready for a battle of the minds, of the magic. Ohila would have none of it. She held out a placating arm and silently called for calm.

“I know what it is,” she told him dourly. “I know what it does. Why in all that’s just… do you have it?”

The Doctor ignored the sneer. He welcomed it, if truth be told. He had asked himself the same question. “My journey through time and space is random,” he responded. “Forced upon me by the High Council. That I found this on one such journey is pure chance. I had no time to prepare myself or it. I came straight here.”

“Sometimes,” Ohila countered. “Your TARDIS has more influence on your journeys than you know, and senses when you are needed somewhere. The High Council may have forced some journeys upon you, but this time the Universe cried for help. What I do not yet see is why.”

He frowned. He was close enough to pick up on her amusement over his chagrin. Even the hint of an affectionate edge did nothing to soothe him. “Then I have even less say over my life than I had previously thought?”

Ohila’s eyes narrowed, watching his expressions, his eyes, feeling his emotional state. He was not in a good place. “I take it she has left you.”

The Doctor tried very hard not to allow the sob of grief become audible, but when surrounded by a horde of distrusting and potentially violent telepaths, he was well-aware how futile that was. A single tear escape his left eye and rolled down his cheek. After a quivering breath, he opened up the anger at the Universe for forcing him to return to this place, the planet of refugees and exiles. Karn, for all it meant to him, would offer him no welcome. He did not want to be here, any more than they wanted him here. Nor did he forgive them completely for what the Sisters had done. He was convinced his grief was their fault. Allowing Morbius to be revived was their fault, for he could have prevented it without being imprisoned by them. That Lucie had ‘left him’, as Ohila had put it, was their fault. And she made no apology or comfort.

It was even less comfort that the events so bright in his mind had been wiped from history. As if Lucie meant nothing. As if her suffering and being found again by the Headhunter meant nothing. As if she had no worth even as she had given her life to stop the Daleks. And for that, his pain was justified. No matter the details, it felt like Lucie’s death was their fault.

Not to mention his great-grandson's. Perhaps it could all have been prevented had his and Ohila's ancestors not been bitter enemies. Which made it too easy to blame them.

Ohila seemed to falter in the face of his emotions. She kept her footing, only just, but she seemed stunned by the strength and ferocity of his pain. She did not quite recover the nonchalance she had shown at his arrival. It would have been cruel and a lie.

All around her, the Sisters tensed, ready to make an end of the intruder in their midst. But Ohila held up her hand again. She kept her gaze on him and took another step closer to where he stood. “We acted without enough visions,” she said, by way of apology. “I make no excuses beyond that. There was no other way we could act given what we knew.”

The Doctor wanted to nod in acceptance, wanted to tell her that he understood, but his voice wouldn’t respond. He sucked in a breath and manfully drew back the wall of grief, devastating loss and anger and returned to the modicum of calm that he had arrived with. “You know why I am here,” he continued where he had left off before Ohila had interrupted him. He focused his mind, not wanting to see Lucie’s face in his mind, nor to feel the gaping space she and Alex – however little time he had spent in the lad's company – had left behind. “I bring you this. A gesture of good faith. If you will?”

Ohila cast her eyes over it, as if it was a trinket brought by a lover. “It is very pretty,” she remarked. “No suitor brought me finer.”

The Doctor’s mouth twitched at the corners in wry amusement. Not just at her words but also over the confusion of the Sisterhood. “Do you like it?” he asked, as if he was pleased by her approval.

“I am indeed liking it,” she said, aware that the Sisterhood had relaxed, believing that the object was harmless. And it was. For now.

To the Doctor’s secret horror, she reached out and laid her hand over it. At once, her body stiffened and began to shake violently. He kept his horror in check, but he could feel and hear the Sisterhood react. The object was waking up. To his mounting horror, he knew he had to do something before the Sisterhood took this turn of events as an attack and destroyed him, object and all. None of them understood what was happening or what she was experiencing.

He reached out his other hand and covered Ohila’s. “There, my little friend,” he crooned to the cylinder. “There is no threat here. You are safe. Be calm. There is nothing to fear.”

He said the words, but he was not so sure in his mind that they were justified or accurate. This object, for all its beauty and benign appearance, was far more dangerous than he had accounted for, and certainly far more dangerous than the Sisterhood could ever realise. And, to top it all, it was screaming in his mind, drilling a headache into his psyche with the skill of a master miner. Both he and Ohila dropped to their knees under the onslaught.

Then, just as suddenly as it woke, it went silent and let them both go. Haspira and Orthena went to Ohika's side, and the Sisterhood moved towards the Doctor to deal with him. Only Ohila – as out of it as she was – raised a hand and sent a psychic command to halt.

“Rassilon, what _else_ is this thing?” the Doctor groaned. “It packs a right mental wallop.”

He looked up. Ohila recovered very slowly, moaning as if still in pain. But the Sisterhood was not moving against him, which meant she was more aware than she seemed. Amazing given that the object's ability to do that to her confirmed the great secret he had long suspected. It was the Loom of his House. And if Ohila was still alive after touching it, then it recognized her blood as kin, however distant.

The Time Lords would kill them both over that detail. Assuming the Sisterhood didn't get to them first.

“Chief Priestess?” asked Haspira. “Are you well? Is it safe for us to have that?”

Ohila smiled faintly. “I shall be,” she whispered. “I presumed wrongly about the object, and it rightly rebuked me for my hubris. No, it will not harm me again now that we understand each other. Yet I will not permit anyone else to touch it.”

The Sisterhood's acceptance of their leader's cover story was a relief, but it couldn't last. “I think I should leave now,” the Doctor said, letting go of the heart of the family Loom. “My job here is done.”

Before he could stand, Ohila grabbed his arm. “No! Doctor, you are the only hope of stopping the gravest threat the Universe has ever known!”

“I am? Oh. My work is never done,” he attempted dismissively.

“It’s more than that,” she rebuked him. “They will not just take your life, they will destroy you from the end to the beginning.”

“Wait, wait, wait, what?!” he breathed. “I know you were seized with a vision, but what does that have to do with me?”

Her body was still shaking, but her words were confident and firm. "The World-Ender seeks our destruction, to part us all from you. Doctor, you are the only one who can prevent her from using the Dalek invasion for her own ends!"

“What Dalek invasion? Which planet?”

“Gallifrey.”

The Sisterhood gasped in horror, murmuring amongst themselves aloud and telepathically.

“And all its colonies,” Ohila added.

Not that her words were necessary to anyone other than the Doctor. The Sisterhood understood well that, for all the pains Gallifrey put them through, if that world fell then Karn would be unprotected and even worse things could befall the Universe and Time itself.

The Doctor was still, contemplating the words. “The troubles that are beginning to brew, the dangerous signs... you mean that a war is coming?”

“Another Great Time War. The Last. But it will be stopped if you act.”

He shook his head. “I won't have to get involved. It won't get that far.”

“It will, Doctor,” Ohila insisted, her trembling ceasing yet her grip on him remaining firm. “You must heed my warning about the Time War, which will ensure that all your remaining family, everyone on Gallifrey will be lost. Unless you stop it.”

He shook her off, standing sharply. “You want me to become a warrior?! I will not! You must know what happened the last time I lost people precious to me! It just happened for me!”

“You would find the strength to stop the Would-Be-King from starting the Final Sanction,” Ohila said darkly.

“The Final Sanction?” cried Haspira. “That will turn all Time Lords into beings of pure consciousness, as the legends say we all once were! It will destroy _all_ of Creation!”

“I don't believe this,” the Doctor insisted. “It can't be. And who is the Would-Be-King?”

“Someone resurrected from the wrong time in his past lives, to stop the Time War made worse by the desperate act of the Lady Lord President to change what was, to reunite our peoples and prevent the Parting.”

“You're not saying that Romana will-? No, she's wiser than that!”

“You underestimate what your companions are capable of when pushed to their limits. She will see no other choice. She had already begun the journey. Did you not notice something about our guards?”

The Doctor looked back where he came from. Behind the TARDIS was the zone of the horrible guards that Rassilon had imposed on Karn when all the Magic Lords were exiled from Gallifrey. The Cloister Wraiths should have been moving along their chosen tracks, a ghostly reminder to both the Karnaan and anyone who would invade them. He sucked in a breath. “Where are they?!”

Cries erupted from the Sisterhood. None of them had noticed the lack of the daily banes of their lives.

“Things are worse on your homeworld than you know,” Ohila said, silencing the commotion. “Unless you can prevent it all by stopping the ultimate weapon, the World-Ender, from ever beguiling you.”

“What? If I'm in danger-”

“Not this you. But the one who will become a Warrior, who must become someone he will hate if he is born during the War. Someone all future incarnations will despise and attempt to forget.” Ohila pushed herself to standing, ignoring the helping hands trying to support her as her gaze bore into the Doctor's. “He is the one who the World-Ender intends to beguile because he will be desperate to stop the War to save the Universe. But this you has my warning. Find the right way, Doctor, and she cannot destroy everything left that is good of the cultures of Rassilon and the Pythia.”


	4. Chapter Four: The Growing Fires

“Donna?”

Metella's voice stopped the Doctor's tale. He and Donna looked up.

“Evelina is awake. She is curious to speak with you. I cautioned her to be nice to you. And forgive me, but you require Roman clothes. It is unseemly to show your figure to men other than your husband.”

The Doctor's lips twitched. He could only imagine what Metella would have thought of Donna's wedding dress with the impressive show of cleavage. As for the fact that she did not share her husband's belief that they were brother and sister? He had no energy to correct her.

Donna was intrigued, even as she knew she was dealing with cultural differences and being mistaken as her friend's wife. Again. “Well, I can hardly turn that down. We'll finish the tale later, Doctor?”

The Doctor nodded, sighing as his shoulders sagged. “Yes. Although I doubt it will be any easier to tell. But I do need to ask Caecilius some questions that might help me solve the mystery.”

“Be careful,” she warned him.

“You, too.”

With that, Donna stood and Metella led her off.

The Doctor waited a few seconds before he stood. He needed to learn more.

/=/=/=/=/

Soon Caecilius led him to the hypocaust that he had described earlier.

“Ah! A very different sort of hypocaust,” the Doctor said as he removed the grille.

Caecilius spoke proudly of the feature. “Oh yes, we're very advanced in Pompeii. In Rome, they're still using the old wood-burning furnaces, but we've got hot springs... leading from Vesuvius itself.”

“Who thought of that?”

“The soothsayers after the great earthquake seventeen years ago. An awful lot of damage but we rebuilt.”

That drew the Doctor to think about Donna's efforts to get the family to leave with a little more sympathy. “Didn't you think of moving away? Oh, no, no, no, then again, San Francisco,” he finished, muttering as unpleasant memories warred with the good ones.

“That's a new restaurant in Naples, isn't it?” asked Caecilius, puzzled.

Any further questions or commentary were stopped by loud grating and rumbling. The Doctor looked down into the Earth, trying to trace it. “What is that noise?”

“Don't know,” Caecilius said on a shrug. “Happens all the time. They say the gods of the Underworld are stirring.”

“But after the earthquake... let me guess,” the Doctor said, switching tracks as pieces of the puzzle started to come into focus. “Is that when the soothsayers started making sense?”

“Oh yes, very much so.” Caecilius paused for a few seconds. “I mean, they'd always been... shall we say 'imprecise'?”

“Most soothsayers I've known are.”

“But then... the soothsayers, the augurs, the haruspex--all of them, they saw the truth again and again. It's quite amazing. They can predict crops and rainfall with absolute precision.”

“And they have said nothing about tomorrow?”

Caecilius frowned, thinking of what the Doctor's lady had said. “No. Why should they? Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason,” he fibbed. “Just asking. But the soothsayers... they all consume the vapours?”

“That's how they see.”

“Ipso facto,” the Doctor muttered, leaning into the hypocaust as something caught his attention.

Caecilius's eyes narrowed at what he thought was more Celtic speech. “Look, you-”

“They're all consuming this,” the Doctor said, drawing back and holding a handful of rock particles.

“Dust?” the Pompeiian asked, forgetting about his aggravation.

“No. Tiny particles of rock.” The mystery was big enough that he drew out his sonic to scan them. “They're breathing in Vesuvius.”

One of the servants came up. “Master, we are ready for your approval for cena.”

“Excuse me, Doctor,” Caecilius said, apologetically. “Perhaps later you can explain what that item of yours does.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor whispered. “After I solve another part of the mystery.”

Caecilius left with the servant for the kitchens, leaving the Doctor alone.

The Doctor's eyes looked around and spotted Quintus lounging, sipping wine. “Time to see his worth,” he whispered to himself before strolling up near the lad. “Quintus, I hope you can answer this... this Lucius Petrus Dextrus, where does he live?”

“Nothing to do with me,” the teen insisted, focused on his drink.

“Let's try this another way,” the Doctor said, pulling a coin from behind Quintus' ear and seizing the teen's attention. “This Lucius Petrus Dextrus... where does he live?”

/=/=/=/=/

“Don't tell my dad,” Quintus said as he led the Doctor to Lucius' villa, just as they stopped outside.

The Doctor was amused by the sudden worry that hit the lad. “I'd say only if you don't tell mine, but he's long gone. Follow me.” He got onto a barrel in order to climb onto the windowsill to enter. Being of a lighter build than most of his incarnations, he didn't sink into it.

Inside he found it dark except for light coming from the hypocaust. “Pass me that torch,” the Doctor whispered. “Come on.”

While the Doctor checked that no one was around, Quintus nervously glanced about before climbing through the window. Once he was inside, he found the Doctor looking behind a curtain.

The Doctor promptly handed Quintus the torch. With both hands free, he pulled down the curtain to reveal more marble circuits.

“The liar,” Quintus breathed. “He told my father it was the only one.”

“There must be plenty of marble merchants in this town,” the Doctor mused. “Tell them all the same thing; get all the components from different places so no one can see what you're building.”

“Which is what?”

“The future... Doctor.”

The Doctor and Quintus turned around at the sound of Lucius' voice. The Augur's expression was sour as he beheld the intruders.

“We are building the future as dictated by the gods.”

/=/=/=/=/=/

“You're not supposed to laugh. Thanks for that,” Donna said to Evelina.

Still, she could not be entirely cross. The purple color of the dress suited her perfectly, making her feel almost royal as she got used to it and the additional cloth forming what felt like a cape to her. “What do you think?” she asked as she struck a pose using the extra fabric as a cloak. “The goddess Venus.”

The teen laughed harder. “Oh, that's sacrilege.”

Donna grinned. “Nice to see you laugh, though,” she said, taking off the cloak and sitting beside her on the bed. It was time to ask more questions. “What do you do in old Pompeii, then... girls your age? You got... mates? Do you go hangin' about 'round the shops? T.K. Maximus?”

Evelina shook her head. “I'm promised to the Sisterhood for the rest of my life.”

Any time the Doctor spoke of destiny she felt uneasy. Especially when she got the vibe that he had been forced to accept decisions made for him. “You get any choice in that?”

“It's not my decision,” Evelina sighed. “I have the gift of sight. The sisters chose for me.”

She saw an opening in that. “Then... what can you see happening tomorrow?”

“Is tomorrow special?”

“You tell me. What do you see?”

Evelina closed her eyes, letting the sight wash over her. “The sun will rise. The sun will set. Nothing special at all,” she said, opening her eyes again.

Donna sighed and stood. “Look... don't tell the Doctor I said anything 'cause he'll kill me... but I've got a prophecy too.”

Evelina covered her eyes with her hands immediately.

The act baffled Donna. “Evelina, I'm sorry, but you've got to hear me out... Evelina, can you hear me? Listen,” she pleaded.

“There is only one prophecy,” the teen insisted.

“But everything I'm about to say to you is true. I swear. Just listen to me. Tomorrow, that mountain is going to explode. Evelina, please listen. The air is going to fill with ash and rocks... tons and tons of it and... this whole town is gonna get buried.”

“That's not true.”

“I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, but everyone's gonna die.” The lack of a reaction alarmed Donna. “Even if you don't believe me, just tell your family to get out of town... just for one day, just for tomorrow. But you've got to get out! Just leave Pompeii!”

“This is false prophecy!” Evelina cried as she lowered her hands.

“I only wish it were so,” Donna insisted. “I don't like frightening anyone. Can you see that?”

Evelina looked at her as she dried her tears. “I do. I also see a great many things that I do not understand where you are concerned. Things relating to the Doctor.”

“Ah. Well, perhaps that's best left a mystery,” Donna suggested.

“Things that say that you were destined to meet him,” Evelina continued. Her eyes were wide with confusion but her words held the same certainty from when she had first spoken to them. “Yet he was supposed to be in a different body, wearing a different face. The man you know got some warning in his past, and his choices changed history. And yet it merely pushed your meeting into his life. Your path is entwined with his, far greater than he sees. I see you saving everything and everyone.”

A different body? A different face?! Donna laughed, not comfortable with where this was going. “Will you show me how to pay respects to the household gods? That was a lesson the Doctor didn't have time to show me.”

Evelina smiled sadly as she nodded and stood to lead Donna downstairs. “One day he will make you see that you are worth more than what anyone has told you. And you will only be grateful for the past because it led you to him.”

Donna's skepticism showed, but she remained silent. She had given the girl enough to fret over.

/=/=/=/=/=/=/

Inside Lucius' villa, the Doctor calmly arranged the marble slabs with Quintus' help. The whole time he silently pondered why Lucius was not stopping him.

“Put this one... there,” he said, then taking another from Quintus. “This one... there.” He stopped short of changing the direction of the last slab. “Hmm... Let's keep that one upside down. What have you got here?” he asked Lucius.

“Enlighten me.”

The Doctor laughed. “What? The soothsayer doesn't know?” he goaded.

“The seed may float on the breeze in any direction.”

“Now how did I know you were going to say that? But... I can identify it as an energy converter.”

“An energy converter of what?” Lucius said, his eyes suggesting he knew full well.

The Doctor shrugged. “I don't know. And isn't that brilliant? I love not knowing. I feel like it keeps me on my toes. Although my friend, Donna, would challenge that.” He turned to challenge the Augur. “It must be awful, being a prophet. Waking up every morning, "Is it raining? Yes, it is. I said so." Takes all the fun out of life. But who designed this, Lucius? Hmm? Who gave you these instructions?”

“I think you've babbled long enough,” Lucius suddenly declared.

“Lucius, really, tell me. I'm on your side. I can help.”

“You insult the gods! There can be only one sentence. At arms!”

Lucius' guards entered. The Doctor backed away from the slabs. Yet his tone remained calm. “Oh, morituri te salutant.”

“Celtic prayers won't help you now,” Lucius gloated.

“But it was him, sir,” Quintus pleaded. “He made me do it. Sir Dextrus, please don't.”

“Oh now, Quintus... it is possible and necessary to have dignity in death,” the Doctor said, tone soothing. “I respect your victory, Lucius. Shall we shake on it?” He held out his hand, which was ignored. “Come on. Dying man's wish?”

Lucius still ignored it.

“Oh, very well.” the Doctor said as he lunged forward, grabbed Lucius' hand and yanked hard. The Augur's forearm came off with barely a sound.

Quintus sucked in a shocked breath. “But he's...”

“Show me,” the Doctor demanded of Lucius.

Lucius threw back his cloak to reveal the stump of a stone arm. It was now obvious why he had his cloak draped the way it was. “The work of the gods,” he said.

“He's stone!” Quintus cried.

“Oh, he's now 'armless enough, though. Catch!” He threw the arm back to Lucius and turned to his companion as he moved towards the window. “Quintus!”

The lad needed no prompting. He threw the torch at one of the guards, making them squawk as he clambered out the window.

At the same instant the Doctor aimed the sonic screwdriver at the circuits, hoping to throw off whatever their powers were. “Out! Out! Out! Hurry!” he cried as he rushed out the window.

“The carvings!” they heard Lucius cry as the Doctor jumped onto the street.

“Run!” the Doctor instructed.

They ran through the streets back toward Caecilius' villa before stopping for a moment. The Doctor took stock. “No sign of them. Nice work there, throwing the torch. I think we'll be all right.”

“But his arm, Doctor. Is that what's happening to Evelina?” Quintus asked.

Suddenly a loud booming echoed through the street.

“What's that?” the Doctor wondered as he and Quintus turned around, trying to track the sound.

“The mountain?”

The Doctor shook his head. “No, it's closer.”

The thudding continued, making stalls and baskets fall over.

“They're footsteps,” the Doctor breathed.

“It can't be,” Quintus protested.

“Footsteps underground!”

“What is it? What is it?”

“Run! For your home!”

Quintus followed the Doctor as they continued running. With every vent they passed, steam blew up like geysers. Like a warning of danger.


	5. Battles of Fire and Stone

Inside Caecilius' villa, Donna and Evelina were kneeling before the household gods. Donna was listening intently to Evelina's instructions when the ground shook hard beneath them. A roaring sound seemed to surround them.

“What is it? What's that noise?” Metella cried.

“Doesn't sound like Vesuvius,” Caecilius said as he tried to locate the origin.

The Doctor burst into the room, with Quintus on his heels. “Caecilius! All of you, get out!”

“Doctor, what is it?” Donna demanded.

“I think we're being followed,” he panted

An instant later they all started as the grille over the hypocaust was blown into the air.

“Just get out!” the Doctor shouted as he tried to herd everyone out the door.

But he forgot about the train wreck phenomenon. Not only Humans stopped to look at disasters. 

The ground beneath the hypocaust cracked and an even louder growling rose from the depths. No one moved as a creature made of stone and magma began forcing its way through.

“The gods are with us,” Evelina breathed.

“Water!” the Doctor shouted. “We need water! Quintus, all of you, get water! Donna!”

Donna, Quintus and one of the servants ran out of the room for water. But Rhombus stepped towards the creature as if transfixed.

“Blessed are we to see the gods,” the servant vowed.

The creature breathed fire, instantly burning Rhombus into ash.

“Well, here goes,” the Doctor muttered before approaching with his hands out. “Talk to me! Listen to me! I want to talk. Tell me who you are. Don't hurt these people. They are innocent!”

As Donna made her way back with water, two members of the Sisterhood grabbed her, covering her mouth. “Doctor” Doctor!” she cried through the hand, but no one heard her.

Yet Evelina witnessed it, and her eyes widened. Her body stilled as another vision overtook her.

“Talk to me. I'm the Doctor. Tell me who you are.”

The Doctor's words had no effect. The creature prepared to breathe on him, but Quintus and another servant returned with urns. “Doctor!” the young man shouted as he dipped it into the pool. They threw the water at the creature. It wailed in pain as it briefly froze solid before falling and crumbling to pieces.

“What was it?” Caecilius breathed as soon as he could speak.

“Carapace of stone... held together by internal magma,” the Doctor pondered. “Not too difficult to stop. But I believe that's just a foot soldier.”

“Doctor... or whatever your name is... you bring bad luck in this house,” Metella said, trembling.

He looked at her with a hard stare. “I thought your son was brilliant. Aren't you going to thank him?”

Quintus looked bug-eyed at the Doctor, stunned that he would say something so praising. It did the trick, and Metella hugged him with a huge smile.

The Doctor took a deep breath. “Well... there are obviously aliens at work in Pompeii and it's a good thing we stayed, isn't it, Donna?”

There was no answer. He turned around and his eyes widened. “Donna?! Donna, where are you?!”

“The Sisterhood took her on orders from Spurrina, who only answers to the High Priestess.”

Evelina's words horrified the room, but the Doctor's glare sent her trembling as he approached. “Why?”

“I... I shared with them the prophecy she spoke of, of Pompeii's destruction.”

“Through those eyes painted on your hands, the way the Sisterhood show each other things across distances,” he said, not needing to guess. “They see her as a threat because of you.”

“But just as I stopped sharing with the Sisterhood, I had another vision. Of her standing before some... very strange object. She was the Savior of Everything, and must do a great deal before that happens. I am telling you, so you may save her so she can fulfill the destiny that binds you together. You will find her at the Temple of the Sibylline. Walk to the end of Foss street. Take last left onto Via dell-Abbondanza, stay on that street until you cross the plaza and pass the Temple of Appollo. Sibyl's Temple stands at the far end, on the left.”

The Doctor's eyes flashed with hints of the Storm he kept tightly controlled. “If they have harmed her, I promise you that not only will there be no Sisterhood for you to join but that you will be lucky if I leave you to live with yourself for enabling a murder.”

He bolted out of the villa. Fear added to his speed.

Caecilius was the first to find his voice. “Evelina, what have you done?”

“I have righted my mistake, in time,” she answered softly in the face of her father's quiet glare. “But I now fear that Donna's vision is closer to the truth than the Sisterhood knows.”

“How dare you defy me and my authority in this house!” he thundered, startling everyone left in the villa. “I am your father, first and foremost. You have not been given to the Sisterhood yet! Only promised. My word is still law!”

Evelina's eyes filled with tears and she lowered her head, silently acknowledging her father's words. Yet she had no voice to answer him with.

Caecilius felt his own eyes water, and he drew her to him to embrace her. “But you have done the right thing,” he added softly. “The Sisterhood will kill you for defying them. But I am proud of you. No more vapours, my daughter. The Doctor said they are not good for you.”

Then his eyes caught sight of Quintus and he extended a hand out to him. When his son came close he was also drawn into an embrace. “You, too, my son. Proud of you.” He kissed them both.

/=/=/=/=/

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Donna could not believe where she was: lying on a sacrificial altar with her hands bound over her head while a woman with strange paint on her face and hands was holding a dagger above her.

“The false prophet will surrender both her blood and her breath,” the dagger-woman declared before her sisterhood.

“I'll surrender you in a minute. Don't you dare!” Donna said defiantly. “The Doctor will make you pay for this, and you'll wish you only had to deal with me!”

“You will be silent.”

“You might have eyes on the back of your hands but you'll have eyes in the back of your head by the time I finish with you! Let. Me. Go!”

The woman was unmoved. “This prattling will cease... forever.” She raised dagger above her head in preparation to strike.

“Touch her and it'll be your entire Sisterhood whose prattling will cease... prematurely.”

The women of the Sisterhood gasped as they realized the Doctor was behind them. The shock was enough to stay the one woman's hand. “No man is allowed to enter the Temple of Sybil.”

“Oh, that's all right. I'm sort of an old friend of the Sibyl,” he said, stepping closer. The energy of the Storm within was dangerously close to the surface, and it worked to make the Sisterhood step away from Donna and the alter. “Very interesting woman. Knew all the dances of the ages, and could certainly dance a tarantella. And lest you think she was immune to worldly urges, I recall she had a bit of an inclination for me. I said it would never last. She said, 'I know'. Well, she certainly earned the name 'soothsayer'.” He paused to look down at Donna, who looked up at him. “Are you unharmed?”

“Oh, never better,” she grated, sarcastically. Not even sensing the same energy that she felt when she came between him and her mother could halt that from tripping off her tongue.

“I didn't say it before, but the toga suits you,” he said as he reached into his pocket for the sonic.

Donna blushed at the honest praise. “Thank you. And the ropes?”

“Oh, not so much.” He made quick work of the ropes with the sonic.

Donna got up promptly. The woman holding the dagger cried, “What magic is this?”

The Doctor slipped the sonic away, and glared at all the women. His voice boomed through the room. “Let me tell you about the Sibyl... the founder of this religion. She would be ashamed of you lot. All her wisdom and insight turned sour. Is that how you spread the word... Spurrina? On the blade of a knife?”

The woman's jolt of surprise told him that he had correctly attributed the name. But she was defiant. “Yes... a knife that now welcomes you!” she cried, raising the knife.

“Show me this man.”

The Doctor and Donna watched in shock as the Sisterhood all turned towards the curtain, the source of the voice, and kneeled.

“High Priestess, the stranger would defy us!” Spurrina cried, having dropped the dagger in her haste.

“Let me see,” the High Priestess called out, her intrigue evident. “This one is different. He carries starlight in his wake. And yet not the tone the gods said would be shown.”

The Doctor led Donna as he approached the curtain.

“Very perceptive, High Priestess. Where do these words of wisdom come from?”

“The gods whisper to me.”

“Oh, they've done far more than that. I've seen it in the young woman who told me where I would find Donna. Might I beg audience and look upon the High Priestess?”

The curtains parted, their source not evident.

Donna gasped, grabbing the Doctor's arm with her free hand. “Oh my God! What's happened to you?”

The High Priestess sat serenely upon a bed of cushions, looking upon them calmly. Her body was almost converted completely to stone. “The heavens have blessed me.”

The Doctor eyed her transformation. “Of course. This is making sense now. If I might step closer?”

She watched his hand motion, and slowly raised her arm.

The Doctor knelt and touched it. It felt like the stone on Evelina's arm. “Does it hurt?” he asked kindly.

“It is necessary,” she said, matter-of-fact.

“Who told you that?” he asked.

“The voices.”

“Is that what's happening to Evelina?” Donna demanded, turning towards the Sisters. “Is this what's gonna happen to all of you?”

Spurrina approached, pushing her sleeves up. “The blessings are manifold.”

Now that she had the advantage, Donna had no fear of touching her would-be-murderer's arms. “They're stone.”

“Exactly,” the Doctor said. He stood and walked back to Donna's side. “The people of Pompeii are turning to stone before the volcano erupts. But why?”

The High Priestess frowned. “This word... this image in your mind, this 'volcano', what is that?”

“The more important question to ask is, why don't you know about it? Who are you?”

“High Priestess of the Sibyline.”

“No, no, no. I'm talking to the creature inside you. The thing that's seeding itself into a human body, in the dust in the lungs... taking over the flesh and turning it into... what?”

“Your knowledge is impossible.”

“Oh, but you can read my mind to an extent, and you sensed that the timelines have changed from what they once were. You know it's not. I demand you tell me who you are!”

The High Priestess began to stand. “We... are... awakening!” she cried, her voice echoing.

“The voice of the gods!” Spurrina cried as she fell to her knees.

“Words of wisdom, words of power,” the Sisterhood chanted, bodies moving with the words. “Words of wisdom, words of power.” 

The Doctor ignored them. “Name yourself! Planet of origin, galactic coordinates, species designation according to the universal ratification of the Shadow Proclamation.”

“We... are... rising!” the High Priestess called out again, still echoing.

“Tell me your name!”

She threw her hood back, revealing no hair on her head. “Pyrovile!”

“Pyrovile. Pyrovile,” the Sisterhood chanted, now repeating that word only.

“What's a Pyrovile?” Donna asked the Doctor.

“That's a Pyrovile... growing inside her. She's at the halfway stage,” he explained.

“Well, and that turns into?”

“That thing in the villa was an adult Pyrovile.”

“And the breath of a Pyrovile will incinerate you, Doctor,” the High Priestess vowed.

“And I'm warning you... I'm armed.” He pulled a water pistol out of his satchel, pointing it right at the High Priestess. “Donna, get that grille open.”

Donna started. “What are...?”

“Please, just do it,” he urged, jerking his head in the grille's direction.

Donna needed no further prompting. She wanted out of there. “Okay.”

“What are the Pyrovile doing here?” the Doctor demanded, keeping aim on the High Priestess.

She seemed unaffected by his threat. “We fell from the heavens. We fell so far and so fast we were rendered into dust.”

“Right. Creatures of stone shatter on impact. When was that, seventeen years ago?”

“We have slept beneath for thousands of years.”

The Doctor accepted that and mused aloud. “Okay, so seventeen years ago woke you up and now you're using human bodies to reconstitute yourself, but why the psychic powers?”

“We opened their minds and found such gifts.”

“Okay, okay, okay. So you force yourself inside a human brain, use the latent psychic talent to bond. I can understand how that works. But seeing the future, that is far beyond psychic. You can see through time. Where does the gift of prophecy come from?”

“I got it!” Donna cried, noticing that her would-be-murderer was watching them intently, no longer chanting. The others still were.

“Good. Now get down,” he commanded, moving backwards towards her, water pistol still aimed at the High Priestess.

“What, down there?” she squawked.

“Yes, down there!” he hissed before turning his full attention back to the Sisterhood, even though he spoke to Donna. “Why can't this lot predict the volcano? Why is it being hidden?”

“Sisters, I see into his mind,” called out Spurrina. “The weapon is harmless.”

“Might be non-lethal, but it's got a right sting to it!” He shot water at the High Priestess, who immediately moaned in pain. The Sisterhood rushed to her side. “That's them distracted. Get down there!”

Donna dropped through the opening, coughing a little against the smoky smell. The Doctor followed a few seconds later. As soon as he was at her side, Donna had to voice how impressed she was, but in her own way. “You fought her off with a water pistol. I bloody love you.”

The Doctor grinned. “Always the charmer, aren't you? This way, Donna.”

“Where are we going now?”

“Into the volcano.”

She stopped still. “No way.”

He nodded, keeping the pistol at his side. “Actually yes. Appian way,” he motioned. “Has to be better than some ways I've been.”

As he led her along, she had to ask. “Like the path that Ohila woman wanted you to go on? What happened after that prophecy?”


	6. Pushed to the Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set on Karn, right after the end of Chapter Three.

Things were absolutely quiet on Karn in the aftermath of Ohila's prophecy. Not even the Sisterhood could make a sound to be heard over the quiet wind that was the constant companion of the transplanted inhabitants.

Even the Loom was silent.

The Doctor looked at Ohila in horror. That she believed everything she said was alarming enough. But to know that the dreadful remnants of the Dark Ages that were supposed to be guarding the population of Karn – if you used the term loosely – were missing?

He stumbled to his feet and moved towards the TARDIS. The Sisterhood parted silently, still in shock yet aware enough to know he was no threat to them. Nor should they be one to him. Their eyes were on the object that had shocked their leader, and nothing had happened to force their attention away.

The Doctor made it to the TARDIS doors but did not open them. He preferred to know that the Sisterhood had moved away, for the Old Girl's sake. But he did lean against them, head resting on the familiar blue wood that offered a little bit of comfort. That calm solidarity, that unfailing absolute in a universe of questions and lies and half-truths. He begged the silent witness, the Old Girl herself, to tell him he was hallucinating and the Guardians were there, just out of sight. Perhaps a trick of the eye, or the light? But the Old Girl, her ancient song in his mind, denied him any such reassurance.

“I knew that things were heating up, but I thought that I had time to work on other things,” he breathed, barely loud enough to be called a whisper as the reality sank in. “How stressful and terrible have things become on Gallifrey that Romana would think about bringing about things that might bring about a Time War? Can she even see what the risks are? Have I been away too long? What can I do to stop her?”

He could feel soft waves of energy pulsing gently through the wood. The TARDIS was trying to offer a bit more comfort than her mere physical presence did.

His lips could not attempt a smile, but his mood lifted ever so slightly. “Thank you, Old Girl. But which weapon does she mean? There are so many left in the vaults, weapons we swore we would never use and left locked away. But... if the High Council got engrossed in a war and things got desperate then I could see some arguing to unlock the deepest vaults. Yet which one could be called female? Ohila spoke like this weapon either gained sentience or was sentient before becoming trapped into a weapon. There could only be- No. No, no, no. It can't be.”

“Doctor?”

He jumped and whipped around. He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he allowed someone who might be a formidable opponent to startle him. “Orethena?”

Only she seemed anything but as she spoke. “The Chief Priestess has requested you remain a while longer. She has more to say to you now that she is recovered.”

The Doctor looked behind her and noticed that Ohila and the rest of the Sisterhood were nowhere in sight. That was just as well. Haspira still seemed out for his blood, At least this one, the one who had acted in charge when he and Lucie were brought to the Sisterhood's hiding place, could see reason as he knew it. “No one else has touched the object, have they?”

She frowned but was prompt in answering. “No. I asked if it was safe and she said that now that she and the object understood each other it would trust her to carry it. She took it to her chambers and bade us all to remain outside.”

“So that none of you may know where she hides it. I approve.”

“Why would you bring something of Gallifrey here?”

“Think why an individual would wish to hide something. You can likely come close enough to the reason to understand. And in light of this news about possible war consuming Gallifrey my decision is wiser than I knew at the time I chose to come here. Not that I wished to return.”

She lowered her gaze and spoke softly. “The Chief Priestess has spoken with Haspira and myself in sharp terms. She made it clear that we could have interpreted the visions differently. As was the case in many of the legends from the planet your companion came from.”

He winced at the mention of Lucie, but held in the grief. It sounded like the closest he would get to an apology given how proud Orethena was. Not that it would help him much. “I wasn't aware that she knew of any of them.”

Orethena grimaced, but there was a hint of amusement. “She said there was a king who sought an oracle's advice on whether he should invade another king's domain. The oracle said that if he attacked, he would destroy a great kingdom.”

“And he never thought that the kingdom would be his own. Yes, prophecies can be read in multiple ways. As much as evidence in a criminal case requires interpretation to be understandable.”

“And yet to challenge the words of a prophet of the Pythia used to be punishable by death.”

“It isn't still, here?”

“So many of us were killed when Rassilon exiled us,” she spat. “We are lucky to have been able to continue our kind.”

“At least your people can. Ours lost what abilities we had many millennia ago, by the hand of your own ancestor,” he spat back. “Technology had to come to our aid and now even that has failed for most of us. So your anger with me is a mere trifling in comparison, wouldn't you agree?”

The Karnaan was stunned that he would willingly admit to such a thing, and more so to hear the actions of her ancestor thrown in her face. She staggered back, unable to meet his gaze.

The satisfaction he felt was very welcome.

Then Orethena suddenly turned and bowed. Ohila was approaching again, only accompanied by Haspira. The leader's cloak partly concealed the Karnaan version of a satchel, looking rather like a simple cloth bag in the same red as much of the robes themselves.

The latter's face was wide in alarm. “Chief Priestess, I beg you-!”

“Enough!” Ohila snapped, turning on Haspira and making her fall to her knees in supplication. “You are still too blood-thirsty. Remember what I told you before. Perhaps in killing those Time Lords you made our lives worse once Morbius was defeated. Had you succeeded in killing the Doctor our Sisterhood would have perished at Moribus' hand!”

The Doctor watched as Haspira was reduced to a whimpering wreck. He thought about speaking and decided against it. He had to wait for the Chief Priestess to calm.

Ohila nodded slightly as she saw her over-eager sister silently plead that she had learned the lesson. “I am resolved. The visions I saw say that I am needed.”

Orethena found her voice. “But what will happen to you if you arrive on Gallifrey?!”

The Doctor's eyes popped, and he recoiled. “Ohila, you can't be serious!”

“I saw myself helping you, Doctor. My sisters and daughters need me to ensure your quest is successful. You will need my help. And so will Gallifrey.”

“But a Karnaan won't be safe on Gallifrey.”

Just after he said it, something echoed in his mind. Like a memory forgotten or altered. Had Ohila been on Gallifrey before? He could almost swear that his last self had seen her there. But the memory faded from view too quickly for him to make sense of it.

“With the right actions my presence shall be tolerated, if not accepted. And what you are remembering is an echo of the timeline as it was, Doctor. Somehow that object's being located allowed a tiny shift in the timelines, which permits you to act. Your memories will be sharpened once back on Gallifrey.”

He grimaced and shifted awkwardly at her words. Such alterations were not spoken of among his people, and for her to say it here smarted. “Even Romana would not go against the traditions of our people.”

“Not unless they are proved to be wrong. She has seen differently, has she not?”

It now seemed strange that he preferred to think about the horrific dangers that accompanied the criminal Skagra's quest to find Shada, the ancient prison of Gallifrey, than what Ohila was asking. And yet he could not help but remember the end events or what he and Romana spoke of after. “We both know our ancestors acted horribly and without justification. Yet I do not know how much she understands that it extends to you and your kin. And there is the matter of convincing her to let me act and to keep the High Council out of the way.”

“What is the one way you can be certain that they will all obey you?”

His face contorted into a giant grimace while his body jolted like he had been shocked by a voltage that would have felled a Human. “You can't be serious! I can't do that again! It nearly killed me the last time!”

“Is there any other way? And what else will ensure that you have the power to stop the World-Ender?”

He wanted to argue with her. He wanted to find any other option than what she was suggesting! He could not imagine going through with that awful situation again.

And yet the danger to what family he had left, not to mention Gallifrey and the whole universe, was driving him to come up with a drastic solution. There was no other option than what Ohila was urging him to do.

He sighed heavily, leaning against the TARDIS. The weight of the burdens placed on him were keeping him from making his usual gestures or posture. In a small sense, he had hoped to share that weight with the TARDIS, but it seemed a vain hope indeed. “Fine, fine, fine. Come on. We probably have no time to lose. At least, if the usual things happen around me. But only you, Ohila.”

She nodded and looked at Orethena and Haspira. “Keep the Sisterhood's rituals going. Do not worry. I shall return. My going to Gallifrey will create a bridgehead that will keep our worlds on the same speed.”

Her subordinates knew when they were outmaneuvered, and bowed to her silently.

/=/=/=/=/

They had been journeying for a few minutes without a word said. He was focusing completely on making sure the TARDIS went exactly where she was supposed to go, no detours allowed.

“So far all is well,” the Doctor noted. “No time eddies, no strange readings to throw the Old Girl off. She seems as determined to arrive promptly as we are.”

Ohila sat quietly in the Jump Seat. Her eyes looked around the whole Control Room in silent contemplation of her surroundings. Her own hovel notwithstanding, the place could certainly use a woman's touch, but she said nothing. The Doctor's lack of a woman was her fault, indirectly. That said, he did not seem to have wasted any time at all in doing a little cleaning himself, either. In fact, she was silently contemplating the miss-match of architectural styles, from the ancient to the contemporary to the absurd, which jostled for space in the eaves of what had to be an ostentatious basilica. Either that, or he had gained notoriety most recently for his arrogance. She kept these thoughts to herself.

He looked at her, noting the path that her eyes traversed. He could guess some of her thoughts. “You haven't said a word since your orders to your Sisterhood. Did you have a vision of what the TARDIS looked like inside? Did you know what we have done with technology and science? Or were you noticing the décor, instead?” he added blandly. “I'm very aware that at the moment, a strong argument could be made that it looks like a half-finished cathedral in the wings of a theatre, where the designers took one look at it, threw their hands in the air and decided to go home. The fact is, the TARDIS ran out of energy in the Growing Room half way through the remodelling work. Let's just say, the lamentable tastes of my previous incarnations are not just crimes against fashion, but crimes against sentience. It's simply not been a high priority of late.”

Those were not questions she had been expecting, and that was no small feat on his part. She thanked the Grand Prophetess – with a guarded amount of spite regardless – that he had not asked her opinion of his or his predecessors' taste in décor and design. That might have proven her undoing in its answering. Better to stay on firmer ground, and he had given her an out in the process.“A great many good things were made possible by Rassilon's vision for Gallifrey. I can and shall concede that, Doctor.”

He blinked at her. “What?! You can say that after his orders to exile your people?”

“The ancient Gallifreyans were far too war-like. Even the Pythia demanded far too much of her followers. Progress cannot be made without some challenges to the existing powers. She could not accept that. Magic was the be-all and end-all for her and nothing else was needed.”

“So you believe that time travel has its merits?”

“Like all things, there must be balance. Once a technology is created there will always be those who will use it to their own advantage and not care about others. Therefore, people like yourself must be guardians of Time, to ensure there is no lasting damage caused by those who would use Time for their own ends.”

“Like the World-Ender? What if the stories about its abilities are exaggerated?”

“What if they understated because they did not know what Rassilon had truly permitted to exist?”

“If those legends are correct then the World-Ender was imprisoned at a great cost. Destroying it will not be easy.”

“I never said that the journey before you would be easy.”

“No, you said very little. Which I suppose I should be thankful for. The last thing I need are fixed points that don't need to be there.”

Ohila took a deep breath, all blinking ceasing.

The Doctor knew very little about the Pythia's descendants. What he thought he knew might be the propaganda of Rassilon's followers to discredit the Karnaan and make the Time Lords convinced that their peoples were two distinct species. However, he wondered how much difference really existed between the Gallifreyans and the Karnaans. Many things he had taken for granted, however reluctantly, had been proved false over the course of his adventures. What else would be cast aside here?

The TARDIS landed with a gentle bump, preventing him from asking questions for the moment. “There. I've landed us inside the Presidential Quarters. It's the sort of thing they've come to expect from me. Ohila, are you well?”

She shook herself, as if shivering from cold. “Your words, Doctor. I just sensed that someone will try to do that to you.”

“You mean the World-Ender?”

“No. I mean someone in the future. She seemed strange, like her very existence ought to have been prevented. I sense in her the very danger that the Lady Lord President will unintentionally unleash on the universe if you do not succeed.”

“You spoke to them like you were confident.”

“If I had not, they would have attacked you. That would serve no useful purpose to Time or the Universe.”

He sighed. “Okay, okay, okay. Time to see what it'll take to convince Romana that this is necessary. I doubt begging will work like the last time.”

He was not looking at Ohila and thus missed the twitching of her lips in amusement. And missed sensing her thoughts about how fortunate the Doctor was that there were no recordings of that or many would have excellent blackmail material to use against him. Of course, she was quite able to do just that without knowing the full details, but that was not why she had come.

Instead of commenting on that rather untimely topic, Ohila followed the Doctor to the TARDIS doors.

“Normally I might let a lady exit first, but given the danger to yourself I must insist that you wait for me to summon you to come out. I know that goes against everything you have ever believed and been told, but believe me when I say I want to keep you safe from harm.”

“I accept it, Doctor. Now get to it.”

He took a deep breath. “Well, here goes,” he muttered as he opened the doors.

“Doctor?!”

“Doctor?”

“Barging in as usual?”

The last remark was not unexpected from Romana given her situation, but the first two responses were surprises since it was unusual for the Gallifreyan equivalent of a policeman and his wife to gain an audience with the Lord President. Even now. “Ah! Leela! Andred! It's good to see you both!”

“Good to see you, too, sir,” said Andred, still as polite as ever.

“Must be an interesting summons that brings a Guard and his wife to an audience with the Lady Lord President. How is married life treating you?”

“We are well-”

“He has to say that or I will gut him with his own sword.”

The Doctor's lips twitched. Leela was the same as ever, no matter the veneer of civilization she carried. “Quite. Not tamed her at all yet, then, Andred?”

“Er, no. I can't say that I have. But she has tamed me.”

“Good god,” groaned Romana, drawing all their attention on her and stopping Leela from a bit of bragging. “All those years in the TARDIS and you thought I'd seen it all. Tell me, since as you can see I am rather busy, what is it that you want, Doctor?”

 _“Get on with it,”_ Ohila hissed into the Doctor's mind. She smirked secretively, feeling his jolt of surprise.

“Very well. I would not be here if I hadn't received a warning about something you're planning, Romana. And finding my former companion and my distant cousin here does not comfort me.”

She did not react. “And does any of that have anything to do with whoever is still inside your TARDIS?”

The Doctor eyed her. “Why would you think that, Romana?”

“You started right before you got to the point. I sensed someone communicating telepathically with you, but I could hear none of it. It makes sense that they are inside. But you hardly take stock of prophecies.”

“This one came from someone I must trust sees accurately.”

Ohila took that as her cue to appear, and did so. At once, Andred had his sword drawn and held out in front of him, ready to defend the Doctor and the Lord President. Leela had no idea what was so dangerous about the woman, but she trusted her husband to be right and plucked out a small hunting knife that she still carried at her belt. In contrast, Romana let out a frightful yell of horror and disgust that such a creature could be on Gallifrey at all, much less in her private office. She wrenched open a drawer behind her desk and plucked out a small handgun and pointed it at Ohila.

The Doctor tried to silently placate all three, with arms and hands outstretched as he stepped between them and Ohila. However, time would tell if he was successful or not. And he had even bigger concerns. Three Chancellery Guards rushed in, probably at the sound of Romana's cry.

“Get out!” the Doctor bellowed, barely sparing them a glance.

The Guard practically fumbled over each other as they hurried out even faster than they had come in. So, he still had some sway as a former Lord President. Good. That was very good. Brilliant, even.

Only Ohila was calm. She had already seen this reaction. She was destined to see the man and wife again soon enough, at which point their reactions would be vastly different to the greeting they gave her now. But her attention focused on Romana.

“Lady Lord President, you know not what you would unleash with this attempt to prevent the Curse from ever happening. Two timelines would exist side-by-side, and the only way to keep the Universe from collapsing under the strain would be to give injections to every last person on this planet, to corrupt them genetically. You would unleash a collection of Neverweres, children who would only exist had the Curse never happened. And then would come the Meanwhiles, whose existence would make every Time Lord's stomach churn before they are used to take over this and other worlds. And that would all happen before you make the ultimate mistake of reviving Rassilon – at the wrong point in his life! And all this after you convince these two to trust that you can help them conceive. Only you will turn husband against wife by telling him when it suits you that she was unfaithful and the child is not his, and he abandons them to their fate. And it is all possible because Leela trusts you as a friend.”

The Doctor's mouth slackened. The only reason he could believe it was that it solidified the memories of what had been. He had come to Gallifrey as his last incarnation, and Leela had sought his help for her and her unborn son. And yet now that somehow never happened. Or not yet. Something or someone was meddling with his timeline.

Romana was appalled, but not convinced to trust her, even if she had exposed the core of what she had planned to do. And that was the part she reacted to. Her aim wavered as she gave in to the guilt she had refused to let herself feel earlier.

Leela and Andred's gaze flicked from the intruder to Romana and back again. They moved back a step as one, feeling very uneasy about the woman's announcement. But there was a certain ring to it that dug at them. And it struck them both at the same time. Romana had used Leela's friendship to draw them in today as pawns in her game. And they had never seen it coming.

“If your wish is to conceive, I can make that possible,” Ohila told the couple. “But this woman should not be a part of your plans. No child, even yours, would live long in such circumstances. Can you not see that? Trust me. A child of your union created with _her_ help would be a hybrid, and that would cause a war of such magnitude that even Gallifrey would fall.” She knew very well that she was using the most persuasive language she could summon, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“How dare you spout your vile prophecies-!”

“The prophecies concerning the Hybrid are manifest from the dawn of this civilisation!” Ohila snapped, cutting Romana off. “You've forgotten to read them, and I wonder if you even remember how,” she added in disgust.

“I have no use for prophecies!” Romana threw back at her. “The magic of your species is not welcome here. You have no right. Andred, arrest this creature! Have the Chancellery Guard execute her at once!”

The Doctor watched in horror as the fiasco played out before him. Romana was engrossed in her plans, utterly convinced that it was the only way. He'd seen that in many a megalomaniac who started out with what might have once been good intentions. “The road to Hell really is paved with them,” he whispered to himself. “This requires something drastic to get through to her.”

He marched right up to Romana, who was carrying on with her rant and not aware that Andred was hesitating to carry out the order.

“I will not have you corrupting the minds of my citizens with your filth! That is why your species was banned from Galli-!”

The Doctor grabbed Romana and butted foreheads. Hard enough that the sound was clearly heard by all five of them.

“Ah!” Romana squawked. She held her head, dropping the handgun into the drawer, and moaned.

“What was that, Doctor?” Leela demanded. She heard Andred beside her cough an almost-laugh, to which she threw him a glare and slapped his arm.

“A rather forceful way of transferring memories,” he explained as he briefly rubbed his head. “Now she can see what I have chosen to share, as though she were the one who lived through it. She had to see why I've brought Ohila to Gallifrey, what led me to Karn in the first place, and what I need of her. It will leave her with a right headache, but that will fade. Eventually.”

Romana looked up at him through the haze of pain. “You hated it. You told me many times. How can you-?”

“It is the only way I can have the power needed to contain the World-Ender as I make sure she can't force a future me to do something dreadful in order to protect the Universe. I need the Keys. Romana, abdicate in my favour.”


	7. Multiple Explosions

_Pompeii  
August 24, 79AD_

The Doctor and Donna wandered through the interior of the volcano. Donna's attention was divided between watching where she was going, and thinking about what the Doctor had just told her.

“These Keys, they're that important?” she asked when he went silent for several seconds.

“Created by Rassilon in the days when the Pythia was overthrown. To cement his power and keep the powers of the Dark Ages at bay. Much to our detriment. Had the two factions been able to work together from the start I doubt what would have been known as the Last Great Time War could have started at all.”

“How certain are you?” Donna said. “You've got things wrong before, and I've seen it.”

He grimaced, eyes narrowing at the barren caverns. “Not to sound too arrogant, and I've had my moments, but I have touched that power, and used it, twice.”

“What do you mean, touched?”

“Well, I was Lord President,” he said, deliberately not looking at her, feeling slightly embarrassed if he was honest. His eyes looked down side channels, looking for a way to the heart of the mountain.

“You?! A politician?” Donna chortled. “I'd love to see that.”

He turned to look at her over his shoulder, frowning deeply. “I fail to see what's so funny,” he declared. “You ought to try it. Being the most powerful being in the universe is not all it's cracked up to be. I hated every minute of it, because once it takes hold of you it never lets you go. It consumes you. I thought I would have to fake my own death to escape.”

“If it's that bad, then why did you take it on in the first place? Or even a second time?” she asked.

“There wasn't a choice. Gallifrey would have been overrun by the Sontarans if I hadn't.”

“What's a Sonterun?”

“Sontaran,” he pronounced. Only the situation and the subject kept him from finding even a tiny bit of humor in her mispronunciation. “And believe me, you wouldn't want to meet one. They're a warrior species, bred to fight. Any fight. Thankfully, someone had the sense to ban them from what nearly became the Last Great Time War. Otherwise, they would have swooped in and killed both sides. And enjoyed every second of it. Ah-ha, this is it. This way,” he indicated.

Donna followed, still filled with questions. “So how come you thought you'd have to die to get away from a bunch of keys?” she persisted.

“Donna,” he sighed patiently. “I told you. They aren't keys in the conventional sense. They're psychic amplifiers, each with a mind of their own. Even if someone has the approval of the Senate and becomes Lord President by vote, the Keys could just as easily decide not to bond with him or her and instead kill them, on contact. I've been that happen once. A new President stood up during his inauguration and the Crown, Sceptre and Sash conspired together and incinerated him.”

“I have a bit more respect for the Queen after hearing that,” Donna remarked after several seconds.

The Doctor glanced at her and would have smiled, but he was far too worried. “It's getting hotter. We must be close.”

/=/=/=/=/

“Sunrise, my love,” Caecilius said to his wife. Relief over the lack of any further strange activity since the previous hours made up for the lack of sleep. “A new day. Even the longest night must end.”

Quintus' unease had not lessened since the Doctor had run off. He had held on to Evelina ever since. “The mountain's worse than ever.”

“We killed a messenger of the gods in our own house,” Metella said mournfully. She looked at her daughter, who was staring out at nothing, tears in her eyes. “Sweetheart, can you see? Tell us. What's going to happen?”

“Just... leave her alone,” Quintus pleaded.

“I can see...” the girl began, trailing off as the vision hit her harder.

“What is it?” her mother asked.

“A choice. Someone must make a choice.” The tears began to fall. “The most terrible choice. Echoing a painful past.”

/=/=/=/=/

The Doctor and Donna continued their walk through the tunnels toward Vesuvius. Donna was thinking about what he had said. “But if it's aliens setting off the volcano, doesn't that make it all right? For you to stop it?”

“Still part of history,” the Doctor said, listening to the scanner he had drawn out of his satchel.

She was confused. “Well, I'm history too. You saved me in 2006. You saved us all. Why is that different?”

He sighed heavily. “Some things are fixed, some things are in flux. Pompeii is fixed.”

“How do you know which is which?” she demanded.

He stopped and turned to face her, making her stop. He feared it was less because he had stopped and more because of the empty look he knew was on his face. “Because that's how I see the universe. Every waking second, I can see what is, what was... what could be, what must not. That's the burden of the Time Lord, Donna. And it was very possible that I could have been the only one left after the war. But I can still see, in my mind, what would have happened if I had been alone. I get echoes of what would have been during adventures. It doesn't make for a great night's sleep. I stopped the war and saved my people, along with countless other worlds that would have been consumed. And after some time dealing with the aftermath and other events, I saved you and your planet. If I hadn't stopped the Time War, I would have lost my home world. I might have been angry enough to have sat back and let the Racnoss destroy yours. Just be grateful that things turned out differently.”

He walked on.

Donna was stricken on his behalf, and stunned that he would suggest he might have let her world be destroyed. And yet she had to know one more thing. “How many people died?”

“Stop it! I can't speak of the Time War!”

“Doctor, I mean Pompeii!” When he stopped and turned in surprise, she gently pressed her question. “How many people died?”

He hesitated for a few seconds. “Twenty thousand.” His voice was quiet, barely audible against the growing sounds of Vesuvius.

Donna's eyes went huge. “Is that what you can see, Doctor? All twenty thousand? And you think that's all right, do you?”

“Never-”

A loud screech interrupted them. He winced. “A Pyrovile. They know we're here. Come on!”

She followed gladly, not wanting to be left behind or face any of those creatures alone. But the closer they got towards the heart of the volcano, running as fast as they dared, the pair had to be careful to avoid pockets of flame. And there were more and more of them.

Finally, the Doctor and Donna stopped near some outcroppings that gave them some shelter from sight. They had arrived at a great cavern.

“We've found the heart of Vesuvius, Donna,” he said as they watched the Pyroviles walking about. “We're right inside the mountain.”

“There's tons of 'em,” Donna whispered, horrified and yet awed.

“And they're each a number of tonnes.” The Doctor blinked as something caught his attention. “What's that?” He drew out a small collapsible telescope from his satchel.

Donna resisted the urge to swallow. “Well, you'd better hurry up and think of something. Rocky IV's on its way.”

“Donna, I can see the interior of a ship,” he revealed as he realized what he was looking at. “But it can't be how they arrived unless they only send juveniles on space journeys. Or that's what's left of it. But is it an escape pod? Prison ship? Gene bank?” He was still pondering this question as he collapsed the telescope to put it away.

“But why do they need a volcano? Maybe... it erupts and they launch themselves back in space or something.”

He shook his head. “No, I fear it's worse that that.”

“How can it be worse?”

A Pyrovile roared near them.

“Doctor, it's getting closer,” she warned.

“Yes, I can tell that.”

“Heathens!”

They looked across the cavern and saw Lucius. He stood higher up in the cave wall.

“Defilers! They would desecrate your temple, my lord gods!”

“Come on!” the Doctor cried, grabbing her hand and leading her in a run across the cavern floor.

“We can't go in!” she squawked.

“We can't go back! And notice he's not moving. He listened to my words about gods,” he added in a quieter voice even as they ran.

“Crush them!” Lucius urged on a shout as the pair ran through the chamber. “Burn them!”

The Doctor and Donna had to stop suddenly as a Pyrovile rose in front of them. Undaunted, the Doctor took the water pistol back out and fired the last water in it at the creature. It shied away, moaning in pain. The pair barely spared a look at Lucius before they kept running.

“There is nowhere to run, Doctor... and Daughter of London,” Lucius warned.

The Doctor stopped with Donna in front of the little pod. “Now, Lucius. My lord Pyrovillian... don't get yourselves in a lava.” When he didn't get even a little laugh from Donna he glanced at her. “In a lava... no?”

“No,” she replied, a flat tone even despite needing to fan herself against the heat.

He shrugged. “Fine, fine, fine. Not even my fourth regeneration could've made it work. Although he would have taken it for a spin anyway,” he muttered before raising his voice again. “But if I might beg the wisdom of the gods before we perish... once this new race of creatures is complete... then what?” he asked Lucius as another Pyrovile walked towards them, crushing boulders in its path.

Lucius was as stern as ever. “My masters will follow the example of Rome itself, an almighty empire, bestriding the whole of civilization.”

“But if you've crashed... and you've got all this technology, why don't you just go home?” Donna asked.

“The heaven of Pyrovillia is gone.”

That caught the Doctor's attention. “Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean 'gone'? Where's it gone?”

“It was taken,” Lucius informed them. “Pyrovillia is lost. But there is heat enough in this world for our new species to rise.”

“You know, I should warn you, it's 70% water out there,” the Doctor said.

“Water can boil and everything will burn, Doctor!” Lucius decreed.

“Then the whole planet is at stake,” the Doctor realized as he put away the water pistol. “Thank you, that's all I needed to know. Donna!” he ordered, pushing her into the pod and followed, using the sonic screwdriver on the door.

“You have them, my lords,” they heard Lucius say. Seconds later they felt the Pyrovile breathing on the outside.

Donna looked around the little ship. “Could we be any more trapped?”

“I thought they wouldn't attempt to set fire to here. What I didn't think was that heat is the catalyst.”

Within moments, the temperature was clearly rising. She swore she could hear the creatures' triumph as they blew on them. “Little bit hot,” she remarked, looking at the Doctor.

But his attention was completely on the ship's mechanics. “Look, the energy converter takes the lava, uses the power to create a fusion matrix, which welds Pyrovile to Human. Now it's complete, they can convert millions at once. That means... Oh, that isn't good.”

“What isn't good?”

“They're going to convert everyone in Pompeii. Once the converter reaches maximum, everyone in the town will cease to exist. And it'll reach maximum at exactly the moment that Vesuvius should have erupted.

“Well, can you change it... with these controls?”

“Of course I can, but don't you see it? That's why the soothsayers can't see the volcano. Because right now there is no volcano. Vesuvius is never going to erupt, and they have no future to foresee. The Pyrovile are stealing all its power. They're going use it to take over the world.”

“But you can change it back,” she said, getting nervous over the growing grimness in his tone of voice.

The Doctor nodded slowly. “Well, I can avert the system, so the volcano will blow them up, yes, but... that's the choice, Donna,” he said, finally looking right at her. “It's Pompeii or the world. The city's people as Pyrovile, or as burned remains.”

“Oh my God,” she breathed in shock.

The Doctor nodded sadly. “If Pompeii is destroyed, then it's not just history, it's me. I make it happen.”

They could still hear Pyroviles breathing fire on the ship, making it even hotter. But their attention was still on each other and the horror they were facing.

“But the Pyrovile are made of rock,” Donna remarked as a horrible thought hit her while the Doctor worked on the machinery. “Maybe they can't be blown up.”

He shook his head. “Vesuvius explodes with the force of 24 nuclear bombs. Nothing can survive it.” He looked sadly at Donna. “Certainly not us,” he finished on a whisper.

“Never mind us,” she suddenly said, finding a sense of peace that seemed to be evading him.

The Doctor's eyes caught the lever. His hands went on to it, but he froze in place, even with sweat beginning to drip down his face. “Push this lever and it's all over. Twenty thousand people. It's too close to what _she_ wanted me to do.”

Donna saw how the Doctor was unwilling to be responsible for so many deaths even in the course of saving the planet. Something from this event he had talked a bit about was holding him back even more. She placed her hands on the lever with his, catching his eye with all the compassion and support she had in her.

He flashed her a grateful smile, just a hint of one, before they pressed down together.

With seconds to spare.

Suddenly the roaring from outside was definitely not from the Pyrovile. And they felt the ship moving, tossing them about.

“Hold on!” the Doctor cried, trying to hang on to both the side of the ship and to Donna.

If it weren't for how certain she was that they were going to die, she would have felt mortified over how much she was fighting to cling to him. “What's happening?!”

“It feels like the volcano is sending ash and rocks into the air. And us with it!”

She squawked, but with a tiny hope. Although she could barely find the voice to say it. “An escape pod?!”

“Maybe!”

Suddenly they hit the ground, but not as hard as he expected. He struggled to his feet, helping Donna as well.

“So we made a lucky escape,” she asked as they climbed out of the escape pod, both a little shaken.

His eyes widened as he looked at the volcano. “Don't speak too soon, Donna. Vesuvius will soon send a pyrocaustic floe our way. _Run!_ ”

They grabbed the other's hand and raced as hard as she could. He could have run faster, but held himself back to keep her safe. The sounds of the explosions behind them and the emerging floe chilled them both. And it did not help that the cloud of ash began turning day into night, blotting out the sun.

If he had more confidence in the strength of this body, he would have carried her and ran at his fastest speed. But he wasn't sure they would make it. So running alongside her it was.

Luckily as the ash began to fall, the Doctor was leading Donna through the streets of the marketplace as they ran. As they fought to make their way back to the TARDIS amidst the chaos in the streets, Donna tried to help anyone who would listen. “Don't! Don't go to the beach! Don't go to the beach, go to the hills! Listen to me! Don't go to the beach, it's not safe! Listen to me...!”

She spotted a little boy crying, alone. She tried to go to him, but the Doctor didn't let go of her hand She was a little relieved to see a woman grab him and rush away.

“Come on,” the Doctor commanded, not willing to look at the horror of the people around them. He knew he could do little, and he could do nothing if he didn't make it back. And he would not go without Donna.

At last they made it to Caecilius' villa. The family was huddled together, and it seemed like the servants had all died already.

“Gods save us, Doctor!” Caecilius cried.

The Doctor stared at them for a second before heading for the TARDIS, dragging Donna along.

“You can't!” she cried as she unwillingly followed him inside the TARDIS. “Doctor, you can't!”

The doors closed at his psychic command and he flew to the console, preparing to dematerialize.

“You can't just leave them!” she pleaded, finally able to move without him forcing her along.

“Donna, don't you think I've done enough?! History's back in place and everyone dies,” he said, the words grating on his soul as he frantically moved the controls.

“You've got to go back!” she shouted, grabbing the console but avoiding the controls as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Doctor, I am telling you, take this thing back!”

The Doctor released the brake and the TARDIS dematerialized promptly. He fought to show no emotion on his face, but his eyes were showing several chasing each other.

Donna was choking on her emotions. “It's not fair.”

“No, it's not.”

“But your own planet, it nearly burned. You said so.”

“Yet it didn't,” he whispered, looking at the console rather than her. “I couldn't allow it, and because I had warning. But I nearly paid a terrible price.”

Donna forced herself to speak calmly, trying to refocus him. “What happened when Romana finally agreed to step down in your favour?”

He shivered suddenly. “Donna-”

She reached over and touched his hand. “It can't hurt you unless you let it,” she whispered. “Tell me.”


	8. Dangerous Confrontations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of violence within. Brace yourself... *runs off to hide until tomorrow*

_Gallifrey – the Year One Billion_

Romana stared at the Doctor in disbelief. She remembered well his complaints about having to take on the Lord Presidency, his distrust of having such power in his hands. It was not pleasant to listen to, and she had felt fairly comfortable taking on the power herself despite all the odds against her.

Outside the room the guards stood by, ready to act yet holding back. They needed an order or provocation to attack the interloper from Karn. But the Doctor was now standing right in their way, and he was a former Lord President. The laws and traditions were clear about what happened to those who attacked one without authorization, and the Chancellory Guard was expected to obey orders from them as well, short of a few exceptions.

At last Romana closed her eyes briefly and exhaled loudly. The act was unusual for her, and caught even Leela's attention. “Who are you?”

The difference in tone, the lack of violence, and the resignation reassured Ohila, who somehow stood taller and filled the room. “I am Ohila, Chief Priestess of the Sisterhood of Karn. I am heir to the Pythia, and it is my interference that prevented the Doctor and his last companion from being killed by two of my Sisterhood.”

The Doctor blinked. “I thought Orethena came to the decision to let us go herself.”

Ohila smiled and shook her head. “You could not hear me speaking to them. I had only just discovered what they had done and stopped them. They chose to make it look like they were the ones in charge, and I made them pay for that presumption. Only a need to keep them alive would have spared them in the Dark Ages, but I am more compassionate than my ancestors.”

Romana shook her head. “But why should I believe you even if my good friend does?”

“I will refer to the one thing that I suspect encouraged some of your more stringent opponents to cease their challenge to your assuming the Lord Presidency. There was a prophecy from the Dark Ages about a woman taking the office. Find it in its entirety, and then tell me that there is nothing to prophecy.”

The Doctor watched with baited breath as Romana turned to her computer and pressed a few buttons. He knew the system well enough to know which she pressed and could guess the search she ran. He eyed her reaction as the information sped across the screen. Her expression, normally so placid and focused, slackened as her face paled sharply.

“What is it, Romana?” asked Leela, one of the few who could speak to her so.

Romana swallowed and read the words without emotion. “'A lady of a good house, brilliant and determined and originally promised to a former Lord President, shall be recognised by the Keys as the rightful Lord President. Then she will pacify past and present and future to separate the Unholy Time from the Holy Time and three worlds will be opened in one place in order to bring forth new generations. Her actions, though noble and compassionate, will open the Eye of Harmony, burning all of Gallifrey and her sisters through a war that shall unleash the worst creations of Gallifrey upon the Universe and Time. It will reopen the Rift at the Heart of Medusa, bringing about the Final Victory that will switch off the suns.'”

Leela was utterly silent. She was never so unless she was hunting. And she was unaware of her husband's equal shock. He had mentioned something of a prophecy to her when Romana had become Lady Lord President, but had been ignorant of the details. Now, they all knew too many. “Has anyone read that prophecy in detail since the Dark Ages?” she asked quietly.

“None, I fear.” the Doctor answered for her. “But is that all there is to the prophecy, Romana?”

Romana shook her head numbly. “Yet if she listens to an old friend and someone she views as an enemy of her people, she will help stop the true demon in their midst and heal the breach between all Gallifreyans. In trusting the man who would have been her husband shall she save all of Gallifrey – acknowledged and unacknowledged.'”

All could see the fight going out of her.

Andred's voice was shaky as he asked a shocked question. “That cited Karnaans as being the same species as the Rassionites? And to think we were taught otherwise.” He looked to Romana and the Doctor for confirmation or otherwise. He only saw the former, which unsettled him. All he had been taught about the past seemed to be lies.

The Doctor vaguely heard the horrified sounds of the Guards outside. He figured the shock would keep word from spreading before it could be properly handled.

“I have to summon the High Council,” Romana said.

“There may not be time, Romana. They will cause delays we can't afford and I want this over with as soon as possible. We have to do it in its simplest form,” the Doctor insisted.

“You think it shall be as easy as my taking off the Keys and you putting them back on?!”

“You will not know until you carry it out,” Ohila said, calm as you please.

The Doctor decided to ignore the smug hint in his kin's voice. “Well, what say you, Romana?”

After a few seconds Romana walked slowly to the table in the center of the room. It was a table easily ignored as unimportant and out-of-place, being small and round, like an occasional table, unadorned with lamp or book and standing by itself in the middle of the room. But it was neither unimportant nor out-of-place, nor was it unadorned. Its surface was inlaid with richly colored wood to form the Seal of Rassilon, and from it rose an invisible field of energy. In the ancient texts, it was rumored that the hand of Rassilon was embedded within the wood, but no one had dared take the table apart to prove it. And, indeed, the energy would have killed them had they tried. It gave the Holder of The Keys instant access to the Mind of Rassilon. Were any President given to cheat or lie or break the laws as set out by Rassilon while in office and after, the energy field would erase such thoughts. She half hoped the field would find him in error, but she suspected and feared, since reading the prophecy, that she would not.

The Doctor walked to stand across from her. The others all waited in silence as she took out the Badge of Office, and placed it on the table, right in the center of the inlay. At once, rings and symbols embedded in the wood, hitherto invisible, lit up with a golden light from within and the rising air above it hummed and prickled at the Doctor's and Romana's faces. The Power of Rassilon had locked them both into place, and reading their minds, their intent and their status.

After several seconds, Romana spoke, her voice firm and steady. Steadier than she felt.

“Powers of Rassilon, of the Great Keys of the Lord Presidency, I relinquish all claim to you as the Doctor needs you to defend against a grave threat that I did not see coming. For the safety of Gallifrey and the Universe and all of Creation, free me and let him control you once more as Lord President!”

Her hands were freed. She first removed the Crown, then set down the Rod, and finally removed the Sash. She shuddered slightly for a few seconds and then exhaled in relief. “They are out of my head.”

“Very well.” With that the Doctor used his now freed hands and took the items in reverse order, ignoring the gasps around him and saying nothing the whole time. Only his giant grimace and closed eyes told them that he was feeling the effects of the Keys on his mind.

Then he gave himself a slight shake before opening his eyes again. His expression was clear and his resolve firm. “I need to go to the Vaults immediately.”

“Now?” Romana blurted.

“No reason to wait.”

“Doctor, we are going with you,” Andred said. From the look on his wife's face she was on the verge of saying it first, although she did not slap his arm for it.

“No! No one else is going to put themselves at risk. I don't think I can risk removing the World-Ender from the Vault.”

“You'll need help nearby,” Ohila insisted. “She will not make things easy, and there are other grave weapons that would attempt to beguile you.”

“And how would I be certain that they are safe? Have them inside the TARDIS?”

“Yes.”

“I agree with her,” Romana said.

“What?!” the Doctor breathed.

“What if this injures you? Help nearby could mean the difference between life and death, and I am not prepared to see my old friend die yet.”

Ohila looked like she had a thought on that, but she held it in. To speak it would be too much shared too soon. Instead, she voiced a suggestion. “Surely the TARDIS can be set to guard against intruders of any type, keeping those within shielded as she acts powered down.”

“The World-Ender may see through it.”

“She will not be expecting this you, and that will work to our advantage. And perhaps your Keys will act as an additional shield by keeping her attention on yourself, which is already to be expected.”

He had no answer to that. “Get in,” he muttered, waving to Leela, Andred, Romana, and Ohila. He looked briefly toward the doors. “You, Guards, keep anyone else from coming in here!” he ordered.

The Guards leaned in and watched in silence as the quintet entered the TARDIS and it dematerialized.

/=/=/=/=/

As soon as the TARDIS had landed, the Doctor pressed a series of levers and buttons. “Okay, I've diverted all the power I can to the shielding. It's all I can do to protect you. Stay inside no matter what until the danger is clearly passed.”

Leela was not entirely convinced. “You are certain? How many times have you been wrong about not needing help?”

“This time, anyone not protected by the Keys has no chance. Notice that not even the leader of the old Magic Lords dares to step outside. Now, wait here in the Control Room!”

With that, he walked out and firmly closed the doors behind him.

Romana hurried to the screen and powered it up so that they could watch through the TARDIS' eyes. “This will tell us if we do need to help, whatever the cost.”

Leela and Andred joined on either side of her to see, even despite their new distrust of her. Ohila chose not to watch the screen. Instead she stared in the direction of the doors, but was really seeing outside without any help from the ship. “By the powers of my birthright, to mother-dirt and father-time, to the vouces of the air, to the waters of the sky, to the fires of the earth beneath and to the ancients of life, death, and rebirth; please keep my kin safe,” she whispered so quietly that not even Romana's ears could pick it up.

/=/=/=/=/

The Doctor stepped up to the doors of the most ancient part of the Vaults of the Forbidden of All Gallifrey. There was dust on them, a sign that they had been left alone since Rassilon sealed them away at the start of his era of peace. Once he had become Rassilon the Benevolent he had been a better person than his predecessors. “Perhaps that was the best thing he did amongst all the other beginnings of Time Lord culture,” he mused aloud as he drew out the Sonic to break open the locks.

They gave a cracking sound as they released, and he set them aside before pushing the doors open. The creaking did little to reassure him as he made his way inside, using the Sonic to light the fixtures within the Vaults to help him locate the one he needed; the Vault of Forbidden Weapons. The door, more a fate of wrought iron, was not even locked, and wailed like an angry cat as he pushed it open.

The room was lighter than he expected. Although most was in shadow he could see the outlines of things he had only ever imagined when he and his Academy classmates had heard the whispers about them. Koschei had been particularly interested. No surprise there.

The whispering from the weapons was no surprise, either. They seemed to all speak to him at once. Or 'at' him, to be precise. Enough that it was difficult to make out specific voices. But he could sense the power source behind the legendary lasers that had probably caused the damage to the various continents of Gallifrey, the devices that had created the Cloister Wraiths in the first place, and the awful guns that he was sure all the Pythia's followers' descendants cursed on a daily basis in their genetic memory. The ones that allowed the Time Lords to round the Magic Lords up and force them onto the ships for Karn. The mental weight felt like walking through molasses.

But none held his interest for long. What caught and held his gaze was the object with the best lighting in the room. He approached and paced slowly around it to take its measure. It was a large box, made from Gallifreyan blood mahogany wood, equal in all dimensions, including the forth, in which an empty universe dwelt, inhabited by one being - sleeping at present, for which the Doctor was glad. Each side of the box differed from the others. One facet held nothing but a slot for the Seal of Rassilon, and two small lights, which for now were unlit. Another was the face of a clock, keeping the time since the Demon had been locked inside. The third side was written the name of the creature imprisoned behind it; Bad Wolf, which the Doctor did not dare utter, even in his mind. It was a summoning spell. On the forth side was a keypad of oddly shaped buttons, the correct sequences for which would unlock the box. On the fifth side was the locking mechanism itself, a simple collection of geared wheels. Each of the decorations were gilt in gold and the box itself was rimmed in bronze. And on the final facet was a text, written in ancient Gallifreyan symbols. Less of a message, but more of a warning. None were alive now who could read it.

None save the Doctor himself; taught in secret by the Hermit of Mount Lung. A secret he had been sworn to keep by the very man who gave him his title. The writing of the Dark Times was forbidden and forgotten. Even the TARDIS, locked by the addition of the Record of Rassilon, a Key of Rassilon itself, was unable to translate it for him. But to the Doctor, the words were as clear as if written in New Gallifreyan: _Behold the Moment. He who presses my lever unleashes the World-Ender upon many systems._

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. “Understatement, I'm sure. Except there is no lever,” he whispered aloud as he stared at the box's top, eying for anything that he should be wary of touching. “The legends spoke of a big red lever. It must be in hiding at the top.”

Then he noticed that the chattering inside his head had silenced. The other weapons had noticed where his attention was.

“Don't want to attract her attention, do you?” he asked the room softly. “Wise choice. Now... do I risk scanning it? I don't yet want to pick it up, and yet I need something more. Well, here goes.”

He raised the sonic screwdriver and aimed the gentlest scan he could manage, trying to see the inner workings as best he could. “Awfully simplistic,” he mused as he translated the sounds coming back to him. “Almost no lock on it at all. How has she not simply opened the box and escaped? Or, more importantly, why?”

He failed to notice the odd-shaped buttons on the fourth side lighting up silently in sequence, inadvertently pressed by the sonic cadence of the scan. Suddenly, the top opened. He stopped the scan and stepped back. A handle rose out of the top. It was the same color as the etchings, and looked like metal petals covering a center. Those edges lowered once the handle stopped moving, revealing a deep rose-colored gem.

“The lever,” he whispered. “What would activate her powers.”

His senses prickled and his eyes widened. “She's coming,” he whispered. “I'm ready to face her. Good that my companions for this adventure listened. I cannot be too careful, even if this is a departure from my history.”

Then he heard the footsteps he had been dreading. They came from the shadows right at the edge of the Vault and were softer than he was expecting. “But perhaps that was the plan,” he whispered to himself as he moved into the shadows opposite her, to not be in sight when she entered fully formed. “She wishes to appear harmless.”

At last the physical form that the Moment had created for herself appeared. He took in her appearance, the image she had chosen to beguile him.

She wore the tattered garments of an initiate of the Academy. She seemed like a Human teenager, her hair wild like it was teased within an itch of its life – unless it was naturally that way. Although his eyes told him that the color did not look typical for a Gallifreyan. A Gallifreyan who naturally had hair that was light everywhere except at the roots and with their eyebrows matching those dark roots was rarer than smiles from the Monks who guarded the Untempered Schism. Her dark eyes appeared innocent, but he could swear he saw a hint of something deadly in them. And her face was distinctive, one which some might call lovely and others would not. The expression bothered him, for it reminded him of the worst in Human teenagers.

But he could see her with clear eyes. Unlike the future him who was supposed to have met her. That future him was clouded by grief, but not by the weight of a galactic war that he had taken reluctant part in. Or perhaps not quite so reluctant, as he did not know what his next self would be like. Either way, he was far more prepared than the time-lines originally expected. So much the better.

At first, she looked around, as if curious about her surroundings. Then she caught sight of him and stilled. Her eyes widened briefly before she adopted the curious look again. “Who are you?”

He stood slowly, allowing himself a tiny smile at her poorly concealed dismay. “I'm the Doctor. But obviously not the one you were expecting.”

She tried to conceal her dismay, and began playing the game she was meant to play with the War Doctor, this man's ninth self. She brought out her seductive and deepest malevolence, allowing it to burn in her eyes for an instant as she closed the gap between them. She looked him up and down, licking her lips, like a Dominatrix about to strike.

But he was not falling for her act, and that stalled her, rooting her to the spot. None of her telepathic words were getting through to his mind. She was ready to play a careful word game to tempt him into falling into her guise of innocence. But he was not inclined to fall for such tricks. The look in his eyes silently called her out on her child-like appearance, like he was disgusted with her attempt at seduction. It felt like a game of cat and mouse, but who was which flip-flopped so rapidly it left her dizzy and confused. It was like the Doctor was using that surprise to keep her on her toes. She was rapidly losing the will to continue the battle of wits.

The Doctor, a blank wall to her, and he knew it, was painfully aware that there was a skill needed to make his plan work. A plan formed in his mind, shielded from her advances, as he managed to outwit her and translate the readings from the Sonic a bit further. The war between them, on external appearances, seemed only to be a glare, as if between two cats facing-off, but those few seconds were as crucial and vital as they were short.

"You are not aroused by me?" she finally asked aloud.

The Doctor frowned. She seemed unable to hear the child's tone to her words. “Not even slightly. Now if you'll excuse me, I think it's time to settle this silly nonsense.”

“What nonsense?”

“Yours,” he said as he drew out the Badge of the Lord President, a powerful symbol of Rassilon's might and influence, and aimed it and the Septre at her. He spoke in the same version of Gallifreyan the box's words were written. “Demon of the Ancient World, hear my command of the powers of Rassilon the Great-!”

The Moment stilled like a Weeping Angel observed. Except her mouth opened in protest. “You cannot-”

“-Return to your prison realm and remain there, unbidden, until your existence turns to dust, to be blown by the winds of Time itself! Forgotten, you will cease to exist, cease to hold power over your victims, and cease to be a threat to Gallifrey and to the universe. I, Rassilon's successor, do banish you! Forever!”

/=/=/=/=/

Inside the TARDIS, Ohila, Romana, Leela, and Andred held their breaths. This was the moment of truth, whether the Doctor's will was enough to force his way to overpower the creature that was the bane and object of ultimate fear in their almost war-torn society.

The air quivered around them, and even Leela felt sick. Yet she did not dare ask what was happening. Not aloud. Andred had answers for her.

But Romana and Ohila understood exactly what was happening. This point existed in two rival timelines at once, and those timelines were merging. It was the merging that might permit the healing of Gallifrey and Karn.

All of Gallifrey had to be feeling it, and perhaps Karn as well. And no one else would understand why it was happening. Which would make the panic even greater.

/=/=/=/=/

The Moment glowed as her hands extended without her obvious consent. Her eyes showed the struggle to maintain control over her own power, and the anger that she was being outwitted. She continued to attempt to silently beguile him, increasing her ferocity, gnashing her teeth and peeling back the Human layer to reveal the gorgon underneath.

The humming coming from the box itself had upped an octave and increased in decibels. The Doctor's breath shot out of him and he sucked hard to get the next one in. The air around him seemed charged with electricity, and realized that the bomb had been activated, without his saying or even thinking her name. Oh god, he thought silently. In my arrogance, I had unwittingly let her in. I should not have taken my eyes off her. Dearest brother, I should have paid more attention to your teaching of the soul walking technique. I should have been in two places at once. Or had a companion with me after all.

The bomb would not need a hand to pressed the gem downwards to detonate, he realized, glancing at it briefly. It was going to detonate on its own. She was doing it, her rage at his rebuttal. The humming now was at a resonance that was causing his insides to shudder. If it continued, he was going to be ripped apart. But he had to find a way to stop her before it reached that point. And then he had an idea. The silence from the rest of the Vault. There had to be a reason why they had fallen silent. Maybe if he summoned them, as their Lord President, they would have no choice but to obey.

This would need subtlety. With his eyes holding her attention, he reached out and peeled the Seal from the box, transfered it to his right hand and held it out for the other weapons to see. In his mind, he called out to them in the same ancient tongue: _Fight back against the Demon you have been forced to share the Vault with!_

If he could persuade them to overwhelm her and drive her back into the box, the weapons would render themselves useless and become forever dormant. The other boxes, unlike The Moment, were unlocked.

Secondary to that, the pocket of time that surrounded him, painful as it was, would close in mere seconds, resetting what Romana had done to Gallifrey's defences, and, if he was exceptionally lucky, the Dalek fleet that was on its way was fall right into the heart of the rift between the two timelines and be lost to the Void. It would work, as long as Romana hasn't done more than recall the Cloister Wraiths. Otherwise, the war that would destroy Gallifrey would be inevitable.

Suddenly, the Demon's eyes flashed. “You will not win this war!” she cried. Her body turned into energy and it flew at the Doctor, an attack.

The Doctor screamed in shock, barely standing upright. His eyes closed in the face of the flaming energy that the Moment created around him. He forced all his thought into using the Power of the Keys to defend himself.

That was risky. The Keys defended themselves, and extended that protection reluctantly to their wearer.

And things got worse. The other weapons suddenly activated and aimed his way. But in the second before he thought his life was up, the lesser Demons swarmed on The Moment, and she screamed in agony.

The box offered her no safety. Some of the Demons were attacking it, and the box disintegrated- its power fading fast. Soon all that was left was the rose-colored gem, lying in the dust of what had been its case.

An explosion of light burst, and a small shock-wave flew from the Vaults, and the other demons shot away from it and disappeared, their energy spent completely.

The shock-wave closed the pocket of time, healing the changes to Gallifrey. Yet the TARDIS received a big jolt. She remained upright, but it knocked all her occupants to the ground as the lights flickered briefly.

The Vault was silent for a second before a loud, wet thud sounded from the corner. The Doctor had sagged to the stone floor, blooded and broken from his being in the way of the Demons. No living flesh was meant to be touched by them. So the legends said. Now he knew it to be true. In the stillness, he released a thin, agonized wail before losing consciousness completely.


	9. Chapter Nine: Breathing Space

_The Vortex_

Donna's eyes were as huge as the roundels as the Doctor's voice trailed off. He was absolutely silent, shaking from the memories. “Yet you survived,” she breathed. “You helped everyone in the Universe that day. Why can't you help someone here?”

He finally looked up, but not quite at her. “That's just it. Don't you see, Donna? Can't you understand? I lost so many before that point, and many who could have been were never born because I saved Gallifrey. If I could go back and save them – Katarina, Sara Kingdom, Adric, Kamelion, Lucie... Alex, my great-grandson... and all the others – then I would, but I can't. I can never go back! And this is bringing all that pain back, fresh as the day I lost each one of them. I can't! I just... can't!” he finished, nearly choking on the words.

Donna was stunned. He had never shown that much emotion before. He always came across as restrained unless he got excited about something. Although she could sense the anger lying within, a reaction to both the losses and the events he just spoke of. To see him in pain, haunted so deeply by his past, hit her hard.

But she needed to try again. So she went up to him, touching his arm to get his attention. When he slowly looked up at her with clouded eyes, she looked at him through her renewed tears and whispered a plea. “Just someone. Please. Not the whole town. Just save someone.”

The Doctor just stared in her direction for several seconds, but his gaze began to clear. The pain was still there, but he seemed to being seeing the world around him again. Seeing that she really cared, about him and others.

/=/=/=/=/

Inside the main room of Caecilius' villa, the marble merchant and his family huddled together as ashes fell from the sky. The ceiling was falling in pieces, and they all knew the end was coming. All he could do was be there for them, hold them tightly in his arms.

Evelina had said nothing since her words about the future changing. Tears fell from her face, drying in the face of the heat from the ashes. Her brother for once looked uninterested in drink, like he wanted to do over his whole life. And Metella was clearly mourning all that would not be. As was he.

/=/=/=/=/

At length, the Doctor took a deep breath and turned his eyes to the controls.

Donna watched as the TARDIS' sounds changed. She could hear the sounds of materialization going around her, that the ship was landing. “Doctor?” she asked.

He said nothing. Just kept working at the controls before he went to the door.

She blinked as the lighting in the room seemed to brighten.

/=/=/=/=/=/

Suddenly, the family heard the strangest sounds, much like when the Doctor's weird box had vanished moments before. A white light accompanied it, as if originating from the reappearing box that came right back to where it was before.

They stared in shock at the bright light that filled the room. The door opened and the Doctor leaned out, his body silhouetted against a white light. He reached out his hand. “Come with us.”

Despite the shock, Caecilius reached out his hand and grasped the Doctor's. He kept hold of his family, who followed quickly.

As the family was led inside, with Quintus making sure his mother and sister preceded him, Donna's tears stilled and a smile cracked her face. She had once again talked him out of doing something bad, and instead doing something really good.

Only when the Doctor closed the doors, with their passengers safely inside, did the family really see their surroundings. None of them could speak as their eyes took in everything around them. Only Evelina seemed to not be completely overwhelmed, like her visions had prepared her for this.

“Hold on to something,” the Doctor ordered as he went to the controls, passing Donna who gave him a grateful smile. His lips twisted in an approximation of a smile. “We're going to move a bit!”

The sounds of the engines shocked them even more, but Donna smiled at them. “It's alright. We'll get to safety.”

Within a minute she felt the TARDIS land. The Doctor, still pale from the earlier story-telling, sighed as he parked the ship. “Follow me.”

The numb family from Pompeii followed him, with Donna sticking by Evelina's side. They had landed on some hill. No one asked where they were. Down the slope was a cloud of ash and smoke flowing over the valley. They were overlooking Pompeii.

The shock was immense, and the sight captured all their attentions. It was an awful sight, a horrible reminder to the Doctor. But the smile Donna gave him grounded him to the moment in time he was in. So he turned his attention to his very temporary companions who needed some reassurance.

“It is never forgotten, Caecilius,” he promised. “Oh time will pass, men will move on, and stories will fade, but one day... Pompeii will be found again... in thousands of years... and everyone will remember you.”

The thought seemed a bit much for Caecilius and Metella to absorb.

Donna looked at her young friend. “What about you, Evelina? Can you see anything?”

The girl cracked a tiny smile. “The visions have gone.”

“The explosion was so powerful, it cracked open a rift in time,” the Doctor explained. “Just for a second. That's what gave you the gift of prophecy. It echoed back into the Pyrovillian alternative. But not anymore. You're free.”

“Donna?” Evelina said.

“Yes?”

“Can you forgive me for putting you in danger?”

Donna touched her arm kindly. “Of course. I suppose if it weren't for the Doctor having to rescue me, we wouldn't have been where we needed to be to stop the Pyroviles.”

Metella had been silent the whole time, taking it all in quietly. At last she found her voice. “But tell me... who are you, Doctor... with your words... and your temple containing such size within?”

The Doctor shook his head even though she could not look at him. “Oh, I was never here. Don't tell anyone. Ever.”

Caecilius broke away, eyes unable to look away. “The great god Vulcan must be enraged. It's so volcanic. It's like some sort of... volcano,” he breathed, not even aware that Donna had said the word earlier. Seconds later the weight of the horror hit him, and his voice broke. “All those people...”

Metella came to his side, and he hugged her. Their shared gratitude in surviving was tempered by the grief for all those they had known. Nearby Quintus took Evelina's hand, relieved that his sister was spared the fate of the Sisterhood.

“Good luck,” the Doctor said. “This is as far as I can take you. But I imagine that you will manage very well.”

The family nodded silently, but barely looked back as the Doctor and Donna slipped back into the TARDIS. It was still time to mourn their list city.

Inside the TARDIS, Donna watched the Doctor working the controls. “Thank you,” she whispered.

The Doctor took a deep breath. “You were right. I can still make a difference, and it does honour my lost friends and family. I need someone with me, to remind me of that. Welcome aboard.”

“Yeah. Again.”

Now he finally smiled genuinely. “I was right. I definitely need you around. Thank you for helping me through my remembered grief,” he said as he sent them into the Vortex. He looked up, eyes shining in gratitude. “And for sharing such a huge burden with me. No one has ever done that before, and you acted like there was nothing else you could do. Do you know how rare that is? Finding someone who so willingly helps with an impossible task?”

“It was the only thing to do,” Donna insisted. “You needed the support to be able to do what needed to be done.” She sighed heavily, even though she was still smiling at the sight of his smile. “My clothes, they won't throw archaeologists off, will they?”

“I doubt they possibly survived nearly two thousand years under the ash.” He paused, remembering the amount of cases she had brought with her and how particular she had been about having her own clothes. “I won't have to replace them, will I?”

She shook her head, yet smiled at his consideration. “No. They lost everything except their lives and the clothes on their backs. I can let a shirt, trousers, and old shoes go. It's not like I'm short of clothes. And they weren't my favourites, either.”

“Lucky me.”

Donna tossed a brief glare his way, but it lasted only a few seconds. “So... some rest for us both?”

“Yes. Although I think we need to stop at Gallifrey soon.”

“Why?”

“You heard Lucius. Pyrovilia is lost. From how he spoke it sounded like it's gone missing. Now how does a planet go missing?”

“You're asking me? Aren't you supposed to know?”

“There aren't many ways, and as far as I know none of them should be possible. Something is going on, and perhaps they might know of something I don't. Or if they're unaware at present then they can become alert to them.”

“How long has it been since that day when you confronted the Moment?”

He winced, and took a deep breath. “From my perspective, far too long.”

“It's different for your people?”

“Um... I'm still supposed to return very shortly after I left. Someone concealed that I had left in the first place. So I must go back to ensure her safety and ensure that my homeworld gets back on a stable footing now that the War won't happen. Well, more or less. My kind are very stubborn.”

She frowned. “Noticed. Are you thinking there's something going on?”

“If there is, my people need to be alert to it. I can't be everywhere at once.”

“Will they act?”

He grimaced. “I can't expect them to, although if they know of it then they might listen for signs of danger. In case there is a risk to Time itself. Although there are some I don't trust to act in the Universe's bet interests.”

“Then, what are we waiting for? I'm curious to see your planet.”

“Donna, my people aren't always keen on outsiders. My friend Leela was barely tolerated even when I was last there, and that was after years of marriage to my Guard friend, Andred.”

She stopped still. “You what?! Is she Human?”

“Yes. Forceful person. I'm a little uneasy over the thought of you two meeting, come to think of it.”

“Well, either it'll happen or it won't. Now quit dwaddling and get us there, Martian Boy!”

He found a tiny smile at the nickname as he began flipping switches and levers.

Donna was silent for several seconds, and decided she had to speak. “You know what?”

“Hmm?”

“You were wrong.”

He looked up. “About what?”

“What you said about leaving Earth alone to the Racnoss. That's not you at your core. You save people. Even when you feel lost you seek to help.”

“Donna, you didn't see me after that awful day. I'd just come off losing two very important people. One was Lucie. The other was my great-grandson. I lost them back-to-back.”

Donna gasped.

“I lost hope. And that led me into a difficult journey handed to me by another Time Lord. He didn't care about what was right or good. He just acted for his own ends, to suit the CIA's wishes.”

“He worked for the Americans?”

The Doctor snorted, a laugh bubbling up at the thought. “No, no, no. The Celestial Intervention Agency. They disagree with general rule that Time Lords should not interfere, but they never care about the damage or pain they cause. One of them was responsible for my meeting Lucie in the first place, and he put me on a mission that did little to restore my sense of hope once he figured out I'd left Gallifrey after dealing with the Moment.”

“Sounds charming. Where is he now?” she growled.

“Sorry, you won't get to slap him.” He tried to conceal that he was little disappointed about that, and quickly added an explanation. “He died during that series of events. I suppose my feelings about it are a lot like yours were about Lance's death – only you actually had some good experiences with him. But I almost shudder to think how you'll get on with some of the people on my planet.”

“Scared I'll smack them into something other than death?”

“More that the High Council will have to rewrite the calendar by the time you're finished with them.”

/=/=/=/=/

Ohila remained staring at the bed. She had arranged the pillows and blanket to make it look like he was still there. Just in case anyone passed by. But there would likely be no visits even from the medics until the monitors read differently. Amazing how a little well-timed magic could trick them.

Yet the lack of the Doctor's TARDIS might be a problem. She was not satisfied with how her magic was covering for that. Almost impossible to conceal the absence of a large time field.

Suddenly, the sounds that had confirmed his arrival on Karn returned, and the air whirled the bed's décor out of place. She looked slowly in its direction and waited.

The doors opened, and the Doctor's voice preceded him. “...because while some of them might deserve it, you don't know how strong Gallifreyans are.” He stopped his explanation when his eyes met Ohila's. “Oh, you're still here.”

“I said I would be or they would have discovered your absence,” she said as Donna exited the TARDIS. Ohila's eyes widened and her mouth dropped as she took in the sight of the Human woman.

The sound of footsteps raced toward the room, and the three medics who had been treating the Doctor burst in. They stopped still. “You've left and come back!” the lead medic breathed.

“And you have hair again!” blurted another.

“Yes, yes, yes. Thank you for stating the obvious. Now, I suspect that the High Council will be meeting soon. I have news that they should know. One of you, send a message to the Lady Lord President to request that meeting happen today. Tell her I said so.”

They rushed back out.

Donna's eyebrows were nearly in her fringe. “From that little you said I didn't expect them to act like characters from Monty Python.”

He laughed. “I assure you it's not that common.” He paused for a second. “Okay, okay, okay. You can argue that one. Anyway, this is Ohila.”

“Oh... Yeah, she does look a bit mystical. Oi! Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I have seen your face in the visions that have come since the Moment's defeat, Donna Noble. You have a great part to play in the safety of Time itself.”

“I hate talk of destiny.”

“Hating it doesn't let you hide from it. The Doctor has learnt that lesson, I trust.”

The pointed tone made him grimace. “Enough to listen to prophecies and attempt to determine what might be the meaning.”

“Doctor?”

“Yes, Donna?”

“What did they mean that you have hair again?”


	10. Chapter Ten: Recovery and Reluctant Resilience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter. Now... am I off the hook for putting Eight through all that?

_The Vaults of the Forbidden of All Gallifrey_

Inside the TARDIS, the screen shut off just after the brief shaking stopped. Romana checked it as soon as she climbed to her feet. It would not turn back on, and she could feel the power constrict itself further.

“Doctor!” cried all of his companions as they rushed toward the doors, unwilling to wait any longer. Yet Ohila beat them to it and flung them open.

The four ran into the Vault, ignoring all the details that had held the Doctor's attention as he made it inside the deepest area.

“How is it so well lit?” Andred asked.

“Probably boosted it with his sonic screwdriver,” Romana speculated, for once breathless as her bypass seemed to have shut down.

They burst inside the Vault of the Forbidden Weapons and all sucked in a breath as their eyes took in the Doctor. The sight nearly made them stumble into stopping.

“Oh, Eternals!” breathed Andred.

“By Xoanon's grin!” Leela shouted.

Neither Romana nor Ohila could speak as they rushed to his side.

The Doctor looked like a horrendous wreck of his own self. His clothes were nearly gone and what was left was burnt to a crisp, stuck against his equally burnt skin. Even the Gallifreyan eye had trouble telling them apart. His once long hair was gone, leaving a scalp marred by at least second-degree burns. He barely had any hairs left on his face, and he looked so still that he seemed lifeless.

Yet the Keys were all undamaged. Given the ferocity of the battle not even Romana had been confident in the proclaimed indestructible items' collective ability to survive. To see that they were fine when her friend had not been protected as she had hoped made her feel like ice was flowing into her veins without her consent.

“He is not dead,” Ohila said as she knelt, drawing a flask from her satchel. “But he is fading fast.”

Romana, not sure what else to do, carefully drew the Sash off him as Ohila instructed Andred to carefully lift the Doctor's torso. It let her put it on, and she took the other items. Nothing happened outwardly.

“They just accepted you back?” Andred said, not wanting to focus on the sight of his wife's friend and his cousin so injured.

“Yes. They freed him the instant they sensed the Moment was no more. But at what cost?!”

“Did the Moment intend him to die as punishment for thwarting her plans?” asked Leela as Ohila carefully tipped the contents of the flask into the Doctor's mouth.

Ohila shook her head. “I believe that the Moment expected that this incarnation of the Doctor would be already dead, perhaps given a boost by my people to survive in the next body and find a way to end the Time War.”

“But that will no longer continue,” Romana said. “I can sense that it is over, that all the invasions have been swept aside. He needs medical aid. What are you giving him?”

“An elixer that will help him heal. He is dangerously close to death.”

“Final or a regeneration?”

“The Moment wanted to force what she had planned on the universe, so I believe she was trying to force a regeneration. But it will not happen.”

“All this can wait,” Leela declared. “He must be brought to a place where he can heal in peace.”

“Let us carry him carefully,” Andred agreed. “He deserves all the honours demanded towards a former Lord President, and then some.”

“I can pilot his TARDIS back to the medical buildings,” Romana said. “He will recover, although I fear he will never be the same.”

/=/=/=/=/=/

“It's been three weeks,” Andred whispered numbly.

The medics had rushed them the instant Romana, Andred, Leela, and Ohila had carried the Doctor out of the TARDIS. And he had been quickly taken off their hands. Through the viewing window they had watched as the medics carefully removed the ruins of his clothing so that his skin could repair itself, and had given him every boost they had to assist the healing process.

“I know,” Romana whispered. “No one has ever survived a coma lasting that long.”

“So we must expect him to die?” Leela demanded, unusually quiet. “Isn't there anything else that can be done?”

“He must heal himself now,” Ohila said. “And he shall live.”

Her presence was tolerated because Romana had made it clear that no one was to harm her. Word had slowly disseminated that the Karnaan had given the Doctor a warning. What Romana and Andred had reported seeing and hearing – as the TARDIS picked up the words, however she managed it – happen between the Doctor and the Moment confirmed that the danger had been real. Only after the Doctor had been brought to the Medical Center had the long-range scanners confirmed that a Dalek invasion had been coming, and they had had no clue.

“I never saw or heard of the High Council being so mortified,” Romana murmured. “It might have led them to retaliate until the Doctor's remaining family intervened. I had not expected even the Doctor's brother to act.”

“Why did they?” Leela asked. “Does it have anything to do with that prophecy suggesting that Time Lords and Karnaans are the same species?”

“I am grateful that you whispered that, Leela. Few on this planet are ready to hear it. But it has made me wonder if the Doctor knew it and even sensed kinship with Ohila. If he did then I am sure that his mother and brother would as well.”

“You are rather calm at the thought,” Ohila said, neither confirming nor denying the idea.

Romana winced at the implied and deserved criticism. “Prior to the realization that I was going off onto a mad course, I would have been shocked at the thought. Now I feel... fine about it.”

“Why is his family not here?” Leela questioned.

Andred cleared his throat. “They were for a time, but the wait is stressful. Braxietel chose to carry on his work with a new focus on finding any of the texts relating to prophecies and the Dark Ages that might have escaped the purging which Rassilon commanded. The Matriarch of Lungbarrow has found it difficult to accept that her youngest surviving son has risked himself so.”

“And I must prepare the High Council,” Romana said. “I do not relish the task, nor do I wish to leave my friend after what he has endured because of my actions.”

“It was not entirely your doing,” Ohila said. “The seeds were sown back in the Dark Ages. And you do not have to stay. I shall watch over him.”

“Do you not need us to remain with you?” Andred asked in disbelief.

“I will sit in vigil. No one shall interfere. You will be needed to prepare for the fallout.”

Her firmness of tone convinced them to leave without another word. She went into the room as the medics finished another round of checking on the Doctor and sat down. She watched silently as they focused on him and then they left without saying a word to her.

Ohila looked at the door and the window. Given how covered the Doctor was, someone had to come into the room to properly check on him. She waited for a few minutes to be certain, and then she acted.

She closed her eyes and silently cast a spell to ensure that the sight out the window would remain the same and that the monitors would also keep constant. That would cover what she planned.

Drawing a different flask from her satchel she opened it as she stood. She walked over to the Doctor's side. His skin looked normal now, but he remained as still as death.

“I know you have lost all hope, Doctor,” she whispered as she tipped the contents into his mouth. The Gallifreyan instincts allowed him to drink it all, just as before. “But the Universe and Time both need you. It is time to wake,” she urged as she removed the flask and put it away.

The Doctor started and opened his eyes slowly, wincing against the light. “I'm alive?”

“Yes.”

He blinked and moved his head towards the voice. “Ohila? Where are-?”

“You are in the highest security area of the Infirmary. Romana is going to speak to the High Council soon. Andred and Leela are off to prepare the Guard, or whatever else they feel a need to do.”

“Not bothering to use your sight?”

“I have more important things to focus on. Although you should know that your mother and brother have been here much of the time.”

He managed a hint of a tiny smile. “If they were both here, especially Braxitiel, I must have been very near a final death despite having five more lives.”

“Your mother was rather furious with you, risking yourself as you did. I had to explain why you did it. Only her instinctive sense of the truth kept her from lashing out at me.”

“What choice did I have? All I had left would have been lost, and I couldn't allow that. How badly was I injured?”

“Your clothes were so beyond repair that they had to be carefully removed from your burns, and your hair was so damaged that what didn't burn away fell out. It's only starting to grow back.”

Blinking, the Doctor reached up to feel his head. His eyes widened as his fingers registered the barely present strands. “Pazithi, I'm a skinhead.”

“Your brother wondered if now you would wear the cap of the family order,” she commented, barely hiding her amusement.

The Doctor's disgusted look spoke volumes, but he refused to dignify that with an answer. He pushed himself slowly upright, relieved that for all the unsteadiness he felt he was able to move to sitting on his own. “So it worked. And what did you just give me?”

“Yes, although I fear that the full consequences are yet to show in your timeline. I suspect you have been dreaming in mostly nightmares, uncertain what was real and what was not.”

He did not deny it. “Again, what did you give me?”

“Something to boost you. You were not waking when I know you were capable of doing so. You were hiding from the Universe because you did not want to face it again after being downtrodden again.”

He would not meet her eyes. “I've been in a healing coma for...?”

“Three weeks,” she answered.

“Then I've malingered long enough,” he declared. Then he noticed the monitors and frowned. “Why hasn't anyone come in to check on me?”

“I have blocked their ability to notice that anything has changed. No one shall check in on you for a while. Plenty of time for you to resume what you do best: saving others.”

He closed his eyes and looked away from her. “I don't know if I can.”

“If you remain here on Gallifrey there will be great damage done to the Universe, and your fellow Time Lords will find ways to keep you trapped here. I shall remain seated to keep them from sensing that anything has changed. You must go back out there and face your fears. It is the only way you will find that hope and joy that is so fundamental to your nature. It is the only way to heal.”

He shook his head, but accepted her help in getting off the bed. “I don't know about going on adventures, but I shall gladly take the escape you offer. Why do I feel like I avoided regenerating?”

“Because the Moment wanted you to, as punishment for stopping her plans. I gave you two elixirs. The first was to halt the regeneration and convert the energy into a healing coma. The second was to provide you with the jolt you needed to wake from it as you lacked the will to manage it on your own. But one day that first elixir will cease working and the regeneration will be inevitable. It will happen after yet another loss in your life: the loss of the person who shall encourage you to heal as close to your former self as is possible. A great person whose loss will be felt by all of Gallifrey.”

He listened, but frowned. “I don't like the sound of that. And why didn't she just go ahead and kill me?”

“I sense that she had plans for you, and wanted them to happen as closely as possible to the original timeline.”

“But she's gone, isn't she? I felt her vanish.”

“I wish I could be certain. Somehow I sense that we have not seen the last of her, and that frightens me.”

By then she had helped him to the TARDIS doors across the room. He opened them with the key that she somehow had in her hand. “Thank you.”

“Do not depart yet, Doctor,” Ohila commanded. “Before you leave for where the TARDIS originally intended taking you to go to before she got the distraction that started this whole mess, do not forget the item in your medical robes.”

He blinked as he noticed something in the front hidden pocket. He reached for it and blinked as he drew it out. “It looks like the Badge of Office of the Lord President. But a little different.”

“This is a new Badge. Romana forged it with the Powers of the Keys for former Lord Presidents. Specifically you and your future selves. This will always answer to you, yet command the protection power of Rassilon. If the Moment should attempt to meddle in your life, she believes that you will be protected at all times so long as you have it on your person. Your sonic screwdriver was also ruined, but I believe everything you had in your pockets is inside the TARDIS.”

The Doctor slowly closed his grip on the badge. “I question the need for this, but thank you, Ohila. I will thank Romana later, and return within minutes from your perspective. After all, I am your ticket home.”

They both knew that Karnaan could teleport themselves to a great extent. Yet it was certain that Gallifrey had protections against that given the Time Lords' distrust of the Karnaan.

“Yes, it will be easier to return to Karn with you taking me. Yet I believe I shall have a great deal of work to do here, to help heal the breach. Thank you, Doctor. For listening to an old woman.”

He nodded, this time with a small smile. “Not so old to me,” he said. He stepped inside, and closed the doors behind him.

Ohila stepped back to the chair and sat. She was pleased that the Doctor managed to leave without making his usual racket. It would help the charade remain a while longer. Yet the smile on her face was over the compliment paid by her kin.

/=/=/=/=/

After what felt like forever but was only about an hour, the Doctor reappeared in the Control Room. He had been in the Wardrobe, seeking something different. And he found it.

Gone was the Edwardian gentleman he once could have been called. Now his clothes were no nonsense and meant business. He had chosen a black leather jacket over a white jumper, and what he had heard called 'jeans' by his Human companions. They were in his size and seemed comfortable, and had the benefit of pockets he could use. The jacket had hidden pockets, but he would likely use them sparingly as he felt a need to button the jacket to almost completely cover the jumper. He still held the Badge, but tucked it into a jean pocket as he walked.

In his other hand he held a satchel by its brown strap, contemplating it. He had found it in the Wardropbe, but couldn't recall where it had come from originally. “All the things that could be so much easier to draw out if I carry this,” he mused. “Yes, this will do nicely.”

He had passed by all the things left by previous incarnations, once again baffled by the regrettable tastes they had. So he had to look at the sections they had previously ignored. Although perhaps he would look at the one area where his Sixth self had started to look before he got distracted. His hands had pushed through so many items, not feeling that any were right. At first he had been unable to figure out what he ought to be wearing. All he knew was that the colors he had favored felt wrong now. Previously he would not have fathomed wearing trousers like that. Now they seemed right. And they gave him direction in looking through the jumpers and jackets. And when he stumbled upon the satchel he did not put it aside like he once did.

On his walk he passed by a reflective surface. At last, he had a proper look at himself. He stilled at the sight of his nearly hairless face. He barely had a hint of eyelashes. His fingers brushed over where his eyebrows were struggling to grow back, and then over his head.

“Well, no one can accuse me of wearing a wig, now,” he muttered.

His face was healed, although he knew he appeared many years older by Human reckoning. “Naturally,” he thought aloud. “Anyone who came out of what I did looking just as they were should be considered suspect.”

He paused and took in the effect of his now barely there hair. “To think I sometimes wondered about what I would look like with this cut. I don't like it. I'll see how long it takes to grow, but I won't let it grow as long again. However long it takes, I won't keep this look.”

Within thirty seconds he was in the Vortex, and exhaled as he stared at the rotor. He listened to the familiar sounds of his ship, yet none of it could bring a smile to his face. “I'm glad you're still here, Old Girl. It's going to be just you and me for a while. I'm not ready for anyone to drop into my life.”

Then something sounded off about the rumbling in his head. He blinked. “What is it?”

He had a flash of the jolt the TARDIS took, and he sucked in a breath. “Oh, no! The Moment... she managed to imprint on you!” he whispered.

A noise faintly emerged from the rotor.

“Oh, no, you don't!” he exclaimed, holding up the Badge.

It quieted instantly, although not before a whimper of pain flickered in his mind.

He smiled in grim satisfaction, even though his fears were confirmed. The Old Girl was otherwise unharmed. “Remember!” he shouted. “I know you can hear me. Stay out of my way and leave my companions alone. I will find a way to deal with you in a final way... one day. This I vow with everything I still hold dear!”

The weight that hung over him felt like he was moving through treacle, but his mouth would not be silent. “I know what it is. It's the knowledge of what nearly was,” he said aloud. “Of what could still be if I'm not careful. Better be careful who I let in, who I take with me. The longer this me stays alive, the more your remaining power is lessened, and the easier it will be to deal with you. So know this, Moment: I will fight harder than ever to keep those I do run into alive!”

His shoulders relaxed slightly when there was no answer. So he could carry on.

Somehow.


	11. Chapter Eleven: Aftermath of Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All done! Now to work on the next story. :)

Chapter Eleven: Aftermath of Destruction

Gallifrey – the Year One Billion

Donna stared at her friend. Her eyes were huge and her mouth slackened.

The Doctor looked up at Donna. “Not a surprise that you're so shocked.”

They were now standing around with Ohila outside the Panopticon, waiting for the High Council to call them in. Given the news they carried and the still ongoing reactions to the time-line reset, it had required practically the whole of Gallifrey's elites to be present.

“So... she's not really gone then?”

“No,” he said. “I've seen enough since to convince me that she has indeed imprinted herself onto the TARDIS.”

“Yet she's been unable to cause too much trouble, has she?”

“No, and that is no small miracle. But she has caused enough.”

A Chancellory Guard walked into the waiting area. “The Lady Lord President calls upon the Doctor, the Karnaan Chief Priestess, and the Human woman to appear before the High Council.”

“Guard!” snapped Andred, who appeared at the man's side in an instant. Leela was right behind him, unusually silent. Just as the Guard snapped to attention Andred's sharp tone continued. “Remember: Humans have been our allies since before my marriage to the Lady Leela, when she helped win the war against the Sontarans. I expect an apology to both Human ladies at once!”

“At last,” the Doctor said, standing promptly and ignoring the now shaking Guard's avoidance of Leela's gaze. “Shall we get this over with?”

Donna stood and kept near enough to whisper as they walked towards the inner doors. “You really hated having that power, didn't you?”

“I told you.”

“I know why you put that badge in your back pocket. You wanted to give that seal the benefit of your ass cheek every time you sit down.”

The Doctor refused to answer. But between the twitching of his lips and the tiny smirk on Ohila's, Donna had her answer.

“I am Leela,” she said as she walked up to Donna. “You are now travelling with the Doctor?”

Donna drew back just a little at the over-the-top manner of this woman who was dressed completely unlike the Gallifreyans. “Donna Noble. And, yes, I just started as a companion.”

“Donna. That is a good strong name,” she said, clearly approving. “We shall get along very well.”

Realization flashed into Donna's eyes. “Oh, you're the Human woman who married a... Chancellery Guard.” She hesitated only to recall the term the Doctor used.

“Andred. Over there,” Leela added, motioning at her husband who nodded awkwardly back. “He rarely gets to defend my honour. I do it well enough myself.”

“My... my apologies to the Lady Leela and Donna of Noble,” the Guard said, his voice sounding like he was swallowing something awful just to say it.

Donna rolled her eyes. “Close enough,” she muttered as the Doctor led her and the others past the Guard. “Apology accepted.”

Leela slid her hand off the hilt of her weapon, although she kept her glare on the Guard. “I shall have your name, Guard, and when we have finished I shall decide what manner of punishment you shall take.”

The Guard was silent and trying everything to not shake as she passed by.

“Be careful, Donna,” the Doctor whispered. “Andred and Leela would normally never be allowed in here. Only Ohila's safety permits it.”

“Why?”

“The last time anyone unauthorised was allowed in here, a rogue Chancellery Guard shot the Lord President.”

She had no time to ask additional questions because her eyes struggled to take in everything she saw.

The Panoptican was an edifice in blue-grey marble, circular in design. Gallifreyans clearly liked circular design. The seating area was concentric rings of benches, each higher than the one in front, with walkways at each six places, equal distances apart. There had to be a hundred people in the room, sitting together in groups of identical colors. The ceiling was domed and painted like the Sistine Chapel, depicting what were obviously important moments in Gallifrey's official history. A series of thick columns, in pairs, encircled the Panopticon, each made of pure white marble, between which stood statues of figures from Gallifreyan History. In the spaces between those were busts of plaster, of past officials who were obviously big deals to the people. In the center of the room was a circular dais, on which a woman in the finest robes of any of them stood as if to address the assembled Senate.

“Doctor?” Donna whispered.

“Yes?”

“What's with the patchwork quilt effect of all those outfits? Or those giant headboards?”

He cracked a tiny smile, seeing why she might think that. “Each person is in the colours of their Clan and Chapter. Normally they would only be wearing the robes and caps, but here in the Panoptican they wear the headdress that sits on the shoulders and goes behind the head.”

“Looks a bit like a basket ball net.”

“So it would appear.”

“What are those images on the ceiling? Major events in your history?”

“In the official history, beginning with Rassilon's triumph over the Dark Times. And before you ask, the busts are of each Lord President since Rassilon.”

“Are you up there?”

He paused. “They're... hesitating still over that. I'm not hurrying things along, even if three of my faces belong up there.”

She harrumphed. “No surprise, knowing you. And the statues?”

He blinked at the outrage on her face. Like she thought he was missing out on something he deserved, and that she had picked up on how often he'd been walked on and passed-over. Part of him hoped she didn't get it into her head to alter that. “Omega, Rassilon, and The Other are the three most important ones. They mark the foundation of modern Gallifreyan culture and history. The other three I'll explain later.”

“How open for debate is this place?”

“Points are discussed here, but the final say will always be the Lord President's. In this case, Romana.”

The murmuring and disgruntled reactions at the sight of them was deafening. Donna, aware of the distrust between the Karnaans and the Time Lords, could tell that her presence was almost going unnoticed. She had to pause in her assessment of the place and people.

“Lady Lord President, you would let this abomination of a creature into our great chambers?!” demanded one Time Lord of the House of Blue Loom. The Doctor recognized him. Bulek. He was Straxus' contact in the High Council who gave the go-ahead to send the Doctor on those awful missions. Had probably okayed Lucie's being put under the Doctor's protection and might have authorized the alterations attempted on Karen's life.

“Oi!”

Even Ohila started at the sound of Donna's shout. The Doctor's eyes were huge, fearing she had just done something not smart – even if that was something she would not let lie – and he waited to see what would happen next. And if he had to intervene on her behalf.

Donna's eyes flashed as she tried to fix each member of the High Council – one by one – with a glare that the Moment might have wished to be able to give. “How dare you! You call yourselves so great and enlightened, but you won't even allow for a key reality of life. History is written by the victors, and the losers struggle to survive in the aftermath. You think you can see all of what was, what is, and what must be. And yet you don't even know the details of the prophecy that confirmed that a woman could be Lord President, do you?!”

Romana, eyes just as huge as the Doctor's, stared in shock. She plainly could not believe that Donna was challenging the so-called good and great of Gallifrey. She could not call them that in good faith after knowing how the Doctor's father lost his place in the Senate even before the Doctor was born. What would happen next?!

“That prophecy the Doctor told me about confirms something I could guess just by looking at all of you. It spoke of a _breach_ between you and the descendants of the woman your great leader threw down. No wonder she retaliated against you! You were denying your own cousins!”

Bulek stood in the horrified silence and walked towards Donna, practically stomping his way over to stand right in front of Donna to intimidate her. “Silence, Human woman! You know nothing of what you speak! I ought to have authorised Straxus to do more in his work before he died.”

The Doctor's eyes narrowed and he started towards them.

“And here's my answer to that, Time Wart!” Donna bellowed before she slapped him.

Bulek squawked and went flying a few feet away, dropping to his side. The Doctor was stunned that not only had she hit Bulek harder than she had him, but that the Senator who had commanded Straxus had not thought to defend himself.

Donna stood tall and took in the now shocked and silenced room. “Didn't see that coming, did you?! No, you can't see everything and it's _beyond time_ you accepted that! There are times when intervention is called for, but not like the nasty Celestial Intervention Agency you have. It doesn't even sound an honourable as MI6, but more like the Gestapo!”

The Doctor flinched. He remembered his run-in with them, back when Lucie was still alive. He never admitted to Lucie how on-guard he had been to avoid them searching him, to give them any reason to cause him physical harm. Given how he was been re-earning her trust after the end of Oribus and her ordeal at the Headhunter's hands, he felt she didn't need to know. He wasn't sure how he would speak of it now.

“You don't even know what this Straxus put the Doctor and some of his companions through!” Donna continued, bold and ready to get her say on the Doctor's behalf. “If you did, you would have known that the Doctor had recovered enough to leave Gallifrey. He hasn't told me much about what happened after that, but enough to know that part of him felt that Straxus deserved his end. You don't understand an important thing about living. You have to accept that you can't control others. You want the least amount of effort to rule? Let people learn to run their own lives! If they interfere with others, then maybe intervention is needed. But you have no right to twist someone's life in order to suit your own liking! That sounds like what you've done time and time again to the Doctor, a man who's worth ten times more than the whole lot of you put together! You know what you've become? Rotting vegetables in stagnant water!”

Her words left a sea of blank faces. The only ones who showed comprehension were Romana and Leela. The former was nonetheless shocked, and the latter not bothering to hide her amusement or glee.

“Oh, you don't get it, do you? You never factored for anything that went against what you thought possible. That is why you were nearly destroyed by that ancient war the Doctor spoke of, and why a left-over weapon nearly killed him! You act like you're our gods, yeah? Well, I've got something to say about that. Whatever happened in our past, we've grown past needing them. Those have become legends that no one believes anymore, moral tales of why too much power is bad for someone to have. So for once in your rotten lives, stop telling the Doctor what to do! And start listening for danger that needs more than you retreating behind some energy barrier while the rest of the universe lives in danger!”

Bulek, groaning his way to his feet, looked up in horror. “Doctor, you told her about Morbius?!”

“More than that. She knows about what you let Straxus do to Karen, and how well that turned out. Although I didn't get into what Straxus permitted the Master to nearly do to the TARDIS – and I mean all versions of her along my timeline.”

“Doctor-”

“Do you deny this whole thing, then?” Donna snapped, scathing as her eyes tried to shoot sharp arrows at the Time Wart before her. “Because I can't see the Doctor lying after I got him twice with a slap.”

Leela scoffed. “Sounds too mild.”

“You haven't been on the receiving end of one,” the Doctor muttered as he rubbed the cheek that still felt Donna's hand on it. Gallifreyan sense memory lasted even longer than he had thought possible.

Bulek had enough. “Guards!”

Three Guards who were on standby came in, baffled. The Guard who had insulted the Humans looked on from the doorway. They took one look at him on the floor, a red imprint on his face. Then they looked at Donna and then at Leela who had already drawn her dagger and was ready to advance on Bulek.

“Shoot this presumptuous Human!” Bulek shouted, pointing at Donna.

As one, they downed their weapons. “We shall not shoot someone our Lady Leela looks upon with respect,” the senior one said for them all. “Such a lady can be no threat to Gallifrey.”

Bulek spluttered, eyes trying to grow to rival the dome over the Citadel.

“Leela, please put the dagger away,” Romana said, attempting to inject some calm back into the room. “Stabbing him would merely put him out of his misery, and that is a way for him to avoid facing the consequences of his folly.”

Bulek looked on as he saw his support dwindle from even his own clan and decided it was best to not speak. He could not think of something that would not be provoking to a being he still considered lesser. Although if he could not see a slap coming and stop it, perhaps this one was underestimated. Or did that describe a high number of the Doctor's traveling companions?

“You stay here, thinking yourselves all high-and-mighty, but you ignore dangers that you could've stopped sooner,” Donna continued, seeing the danger to herself vanish. “Now a whole planet's gone missing and an old enemy of the universe is back – when you thought they were gone!”

“What is she talking about, Doctor?” Romana said, cutting into the murmuring of the junior members of the High Council and halting any attempts by the senior members to speak.

The Doctor took the opportunity to step forward and into the center of the room. “My Lords, members of the Senate of All Gallifrey.” He remembered every time he had set foot in this room thus far across his lives, and none of them were terribly pleasant. At least this time he felt like he truly had the upper hand. It was so rare that he was going to make the most of it.

“The day I met Donna Noble she appeared inside my TARDIS. At first I thought you lot had dropped another Human on me, and yet there were no warning signs like when Straxus managed to transport Lucie Miller through all the Old Girl's defences. It turned out that a few Humans had figured out how to create huon particles and one was poisoning Donna with them.”

“You cannot be serious!” cried Bulek.

“I know when my old friend and might-have-been-husband is joking,” Romana said dryly. “I assure you he is not, which is far more alarming. Did you unravel them?”

Donna shot a curious look at the Doctor.

“Later, Donna,” he whispered, well aware that it would only last until they left the High Council. “All except the ones already inside Donna,” he continued. “Those were being used to unlock a device left inside Theia, the planet that collided into Earth and fused with it. It was a Racnoss ship with hibernating young.”

The dismayed cries that burst from the High Council were indistinguishable from each other to Donna's ears.

“While I managed to stop the Empress of the Racnoss and her children, two more threats still linger. First, the planet Pyrovillia is missing. We discovered this back when Vesuevius exploded and buried Pompeii, and near as I can tell it's still missing in Donna's time almost 2,000 years later.”

“Only a few technologies can move a planet,” Romana said, contemplative and tense. “It was said that they had all been contained.”

“Clearly, one has not,” Donna said, matter-of-factly. “So are you finally going to be on the alert to any others?”

“We must,” Romana declared. “Plans must quickly be drawn for detecting missing planets, and then observing to determine how it happened. Then we will act swiftly to restore them.”

“And are your people going to drop the whole of that responsibility on the Doctor?” asked Donna, tone sharper than a glass shard. “Doesn't sound right to me.”

“No, this time more will be required. The Doctor's stance on our complete non-interference is right; while we must not interfere with history, we can neither permit others to do so. I could name several events that would never have happened had we been a bit more active in prevention. Morbius' brief resurrection is one of them.”

“It was wiped from history,” Bulek protested.

“But not forgotten,” Ohila interrupted. “The Sisterhood never forgot that we and all our fellow exiles were driven off of Karn by the threat that you ignored, or that the Time Lords increased the 'security' around the planet after we felt it was safe to return to the world we had to call home.”

“We must move past that,” the Doctor insisted, raising his voice to command all attention. “The peoples of Gallifrey and Karn must work together. Not just for the sake of Time and the Multi-Verses, but for our own. We were once the same people, but we let a squabble over how to go about dealing with our Time Senses kill many of our kindred and began what we should call the Great Breach. Had Rassilon and Pythia found a way to work together in peace I am convinced that not only would there be far more of us now, but that the Universe would be a better place. The dreaded World-Ender would have faded away, instead of what did happen. But they did not, and we must live with the consequences of that – which includes the fact that The Moment is still a threat.”

Cries of dismay filled the room, and even Romana's mouth slackened.

“Yet we can choose a new course, a path of reconciliation and peace. It could lead to the end of the Curse, and the revival of Gallifrey. Otherwise we will go extinct, and then what will happen to Time?” the Doctor asked the room.

Silence filled the Panoptican. He had not expected an answer anyway.

Romana took a breath and made her decision. “I believe that anyone who would oppose this should make their reasons clear now, so that we can discuss them openly, in front of the High Priestess. I will show all Senators the evidence we have found that proves our two peoples are the same. Whatever arguments you have, let us all hear them, so that we can resolve it now to avoid a situation that could lead to war.”

“I hope none shall, for we are all needed,” Ohila said. She took advantage of the silence to continue. “While my genetic memory tells me to be as suspicious of your kind as you are of mine, I cannot let my sistren suffer anymore. We none of us shall forget, but I am willing to forgive and work with you to create a blend of science and magic to solve our problems.”

The decision took far longer than the Doctor's best day of patience could take.

/=/=/=/=/

“So... you and Romana?” Donna finally asked as they walked outside, taking in the sights.

The High Council finally capitulated, one by one. Some were very reluctant, but it seemed that survival was a strong enough instinct even in a social class such as the Time Lords. As anti-social as they were, even they could see that working with the Karnaans was in their best interests. They would still have to sell the idea to the Houses who lacked a seat in the Senate, and that could be a lot harder.

However, the possibility of additional rations and other incentives would likely work miracles. Especially the chance to finally have a proper increase in the population since Leela's arrival. Gallifrey had lacked so much for so long that the promise of improvement might mean the people were desperate. If the situation had not looked good, the Doctor would have worried about his people being taken in by a con.

Although he hoped that Haspira was kept far away from the cooperation until Ohila brought her to heel. That one still seemed eager for his death even with her leader right there quieting them all.

Mind, Bulek might be enduring a lot of murderous glares. If they thought about the implications of Karnaan and Gallifreyan blood being the same, they would soon realize that Zarodnix had failed to consider nabbing a Karnaan as his source for DNA. Moribus might have revived as a woman, but would have been no less dangerous. Had that been the case, perhaps the Doctor would have endured even more danger in righting the situation. Maybe even failed.

But he clearly had bigger problems at present. He found the ability to laugh at the memory, even though it felt like Donna was heating a pan with some butter and adding popping corn. Namely, him.

“It was long ago, when I was in my fourth regeneration. Just after Leela had first come to Gallifrey and demanded my cousin as husband. Yes, Andred and I were forged from the same Loom. We may not be related by genetics, but we are of the same Clan. Red Loom. Cousins, on my mother's side. Being lowborn, Andred would have been lucky to have a woman smile at him from across the street, much less married. Anyway, as I was preparing to leave Gallifrey, I found the TARDIS had been broken into. And there she was; Romana, fresh out of the Academy, sitting in my Control Room. And I knew why she was there. My wife had died long before and in my absence, my House and Hers had been allied. Money had been exchanged for a seat in the Senate, and return I was supposed to marry her." He paused for a moment, before giving a mild chuckle. "We disliked each other on sight. We worked together, trying to locate the Key to Time and grew to respect each other, even love each other on some level. Such a union would have been frowned upon and ridiculed, and eventually punished. So, we mutually decided that it would be for the best that we parted company without fulfilling the agreement. In short, I found a loophole in the agreement and used it to our advantage." He gave another cough of a laugh, wistful and smiling gently. "She switched places with another companion of mine, Adric from E-pace. Long story. And then we lost touch for a time. But, that's the truth of Romana and me. We were very nearly married."

“And how did she get back?”

The Doctor looked mildly confused, but smiled and answered slowly. “I haven't the faintest idea.”

“Never asked her, then. Typical bloke. Could it be said that the Moment was acting on her to make her nearly use Leela and Andred for her plan?”

“I don't want to think about that. Desperation, Donna. The Looms have stopped working and we need more people. I think that opened Romana to thinking about what had been unthinkable before.”

“Do you think Andred and Leela will forgive her for trying to manipulate them?”

“Well, that will take a while. Although given how they were talking with Ohila I would not be surprised to hear of a child coming for them. And perhaps more will follow in their footsteps.”

“Is your House going to expect you to take a new wife?”

He laughed loudly, although his eyes lacked humor. “I doubt there's a Gallifreyan woman willing to have me even if her family were willing to consider me.”

Donna frowned over his choice of words. “The person who saved the whole planet and you couldn't find a wife among them?” She sighed and shook her head. “Well, maybe I shouldn't talk.”

“Donna, what do you think of Gallifrey?” he promptly asked, wanting to change the subject.

She snorted, letting him and taking the chance to vent a little. “A bunch of stuffed shirts, a lot of them. You get them down our way, too. The self-opinionated; the self-absorbed; the arrogant; most of them in government or the local council. They get like that because they're in office and there isn't a fig you can do about it. They get away with it because they can, and better than everyone else because they have that seat and you don't. They look down their noses at you, but you know what I think? I think it makes them look like a donkey. Long nose. But basically, the Senate here is no different. Two-faced bigots with two rear ends. Don't be too surprised if they change their minds in a few day's time, or stab you in the back while you're not looking. Your Senate isn't even a proper democracy, so they have even less reason to be swayed by public accountability and votes."

The Doctor grinned at her, refusing to remind her that once or twice he had been one of those 'stuffed shirts'. "I meant my planet," he said, holding in a laugh.

"Oh. Sorry. Well, not seen much of it to make a proper appraisal."

"First impressions," he hedged. 

She laughed aloud. “You sound rather eager for me to like it. You know what you are? A great big outer space dunce who's going a bit soft.”

“Donna, I-”

She swat his arm and laughed harder. “You are too easy to tease! Oh, Doctor, you don't need to worry,” she promised as she quieted her amusement. “It's so beautiful. Silver leaves, red grasses, and two suns? I never thought I could see anything like this and not think it fake! Although why am I feeling like I've had to adjust my breathing?”

“Rarified air. I checked your vitals before coming here, and I was sure your lungs could handle it. If it had been a real risk I would have taken precautions.”

She glared. “Still would've liked a warning. It's a recipe for disaster if you don't tell your friends and assistants things like that. Anyway, how long have we got until it's a good idea to leave?”

“Do you mean before the High Council feels too threatened by two stubborn Human women, or before they get ideas about what they want me to do next?”

“Either. Although I have to ask. What is the deal with Leela?!”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, she's a bit... over-the-top. I thought I could be the definition of bolshy, but she's outright aggressive!”

The Doctor winced at the memories. “Leela is the heir of the King of the Sevateem. They're from a dangerous world where they had to be violent to survive. My fourth incarnation was the one who met her, and he... I did my best to at least get a veneer of civilisation over her. Trust me, she used to be much more... like that. After what you did, I think she'll find that she won't need to resort to threats of violence so much. You just showed them that Humans aren't that far removed from the War Lords, the warrior class of Gallifrey.”

“Okay,” Donna said. “Then I suppose the next time I see her I'll be able to talk with her. Takes all kinds of people, and as long as you don't harm others you can be however you like in my book.”

“Even though you'll have an opinion on their choice?”

“Oi!”

“After knowing you even a short while I know you have opinions on everything. I can only imagine what you would have made of the regrettable tastes in fashion my predecessors had.”

“Or lack of said?”

“I can't answer that without giving you more grounds to tease me.”

“Are they still in the TARDIS?”

“In the Wardrobe, yes.”

“Then you'll prove it later. And I'll still tease you. And why would someone like Leela travel with you?”

He rubbed his face. “Oh, you'll laugh. My fourth regeneration had a striking resemblance to their god, right down to the smile.” He paused for a second, glancing at Donna. “Well, perhaps the right word is identical,” he admitted, face roasting at the memory.

“Hence her cry when she saw you injured?”

“Yes.”

“Did her god dress like you did?”

“I never asked, and I never wanted to know.”

She decided to let that lie. Poor Spaceman's face looked ready to burst into flame, and she didn't like hurting him even unintentionally.

They were silent for a while, taking in the sights as they walked back to the TARDIS. The medics left them be, looking rather glad to get their space back.

As the Doctor brought them into the Vortex, Donna thought for several seconds, considering something that came to mind. “So... one day that potion will cease to work? How did it work?”

“There were two, Donna. Karnaans use words to manipulate objects and even Space and Time. Expert Karnaans can teleport themselves across great distances. It's how I was captured by them and how they escaped the danger from Moribus. Although the mental effort is exhausting. They're also excellent creators of healing elixirs. The first one was made to halt an impending regeneration.”

“That change that Evelina mentioned?”

“Yes. Ohila seems convinced that to properly thwart The Moment this me had to live beyond that dreadful day, that I still have some important role to play as this me. So she gave me that one, to convert the energy into a healing coma so I could recover. Although I needed more help.”

“You said in your tale that you didn't want to wake.”

“I refused to activate the methods to rise from the coma. Every Time Lord is fully trained in using their abilities even when near death. I think part of me wanted to die.”

She gasped. “That's awful!”

“I felt like I had nothing worth living for. And she knew that. So she also gave me something to force my body to wake, and give me an additional boost of energy to get me moving again. And it worked.”

“Was that her only motive, do you think?”

The Doctor winced and looked away. “No. I think she, seeing the healing that will come to Gallifrey and the population rebuilding that accompanies it, wanted to help me get ready to receive a wife who would bear me children.”

Donna's eyes tried to escape their sockets. “Who is it?”

He started, but calmed himself enough to sigh. “I don't know. Not even Ohila seems to know, but reading between the lines I suspect that someone will become as important to me as my own family. Although I can't imagine letting anyone in that much. It could be anyone. And I'm not ready. I can't let anyone in like that, even in the way I had to my children's mother. I don't want to think about it.”

“We all feel that way after a big loss,” Donna said, silently noting how jittery his body was as he thought about it. Not to mention the suspicion and eagerness to avoid Gallifrey. “My granddad didn't laugh for weeks after my gran died. Well, it didn't sound real. Mum got even harsher for a while, until she was able to adjust. And my Dad lost his parents when I was little. I suppose loss has a different perspective when you live so long.”

“My long memory means that I feel the pain longer,” he said. “Donna, the day I had to leave my granddaughter behind because she would have sacrificed her own happiness to stay with me? I still feel that emptiness the decision left me. Even though I gained a great-grandson from it...”

Donna's eyes watered at the sight of the renewed pain. She could guess in general terms the boy's fate. That Alex he had mentioned in painful passing. The details were none of her business unless he was willing to speak of them, and he was not ready to.

The Doctor heard her approach but did not look up. He waited to see how this Earthwoman would react to the latest bit from his past he admitted to. He felt her step right next to him, and blinked when she gripped his nearer hand in both of hers. Then he looked at her, questioning.

“I'm so sorry,” she whispered. “If I unintentionally poked holes in your pain-”

“You couldn't have known,” he said quietly, placing his other hand over hers. “I forgave you already.”

“And you need a friend more than you know.”

“Donna-”

“I know I can't even begin to make up for your losses. I won't even try. All I want is to be your friend, to help you find some measure of peace that still honours all of your lost friends and family. Because if you keep letting this consume you then The Moment and other enemies like her will win. And I won't let my friend sink to such depths ever again.”

“We won't have forever.”

“But I can give you a start on a better path than you were on. If you'll let me and can forgive a Human woman's presumption.”

He lightly snorted a laugh through his nose, nearly silent. “Presumption would be assuming that you were enough to make up for my losses. You're too wise for that, Donna.”

“Well, if you can forgive one act of presumption, there's something I think you need and never got enough of. Particularly when bad things happened.”

“What?”

She let go of his hand and tugged him into a hug.

He stilled, not sure how to react at first. But slowly his arms instinctively wrapped around her and he leaned his head against hers. “No one's ever wanted to share my burdens before.”

“It's what really good friends do on Earth, Martian Boy.”

The name got a chuckle out of him. When she adjusted the hug's tone, he quieted in realization. “You wanted to make me laugh.”

“Well, we either laugh or we cry in times of great stress, as my granddad Noble once said. He preferred laughing when possible, because sometimes the crying will incapacitate us for days.”

“I see his point,” he murmured, content to sink into the embrace.

They remained hugging for a while, both needing the contact.

Unbeknown to them, within the rotor the spirit of The Moment watched. If the Doctor listened carefully, he could hear her fuming. But he could not know what she was plotting.

**THE END...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued in “Echoes On Oodsphere”...


End file.
